


the things we could be

by KarenaWilliams (ryvrr)



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Female Protagonist, Major and Minor Character Deaths, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Female Character, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryvrr/pseuds/KarenaWilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were with Craig the night the world fell apart. (DISCONTINUED)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (one)

You were with Craig the night the world fell apart.

It was evening, and he had invited you out for coffee. You weren’t quite sure if it was because he wanted to spend time with you or see his best friend Tweek. More than likely it was a mixture of both of those two feelings, though Craig Tucker wasn’t one to admit to having them. Feelings, that is. It was winter break, so everyone was back from college. He had texted you an ambiguous message earlier that day in greeting, one that had left your brows furrowed and your heart beating oddly. Ugh, you hated when Tucker messaged you because you always got your hopes up for nothing.

Your crush started in the ninth grade, though nothing ever came to show for it. You still had some feelings, buried underneath all the denial and forced unawareness, but for the most part you were able to go through your days normally. That is to say: without one thought of Craig Tucker. It also helped you both went to different colleges, so therefore the two of you had very little interactions. The most that happened was he would comment on your statuses and you would imagine his nasally, apathetic voice saying the things he typed aloud.

You really needed to get out more and make new friends.

Honestly, you were still wrapped up in this crush. You had hoped once you went to college you would forget him; forget all about South Park and the crazy shit that always seemed to happen in the small, mountain town. No such luck so far. It was truly a pity. No boys were overly interested in you, nor did you show much concern in that regard. You hadn’t even asked one guy for his number since you had started school! You really need to remember your vow that you would forget Craig Tucker. It was proving harder and harder to do with each passing day though.

_are u going 2 go?_

Think of the devil and he shall text you again! You glanced at your smart phone, brows furrowed and raised it so your fingers could slide smoothly over the letters. _I already told you yes. I thought you were going to pick me up?_ You set your phone back down and went back to watching your TV show, eyes idly glancing at the clock every few minutes. It took him a whole ten before he actually texted you again. He was notorious for being the slowest texter in South Park. Hell, even Butters-- who had the oldest phone imaginable because his parents refused to pay a lot of money on it-- texted faster than Craig, and Tucker had an iPhone!

_o ok. walk or drive?_

_Doesn’t matter. You can choose._

_see u in 5._ You sighed as you reached your hand out to turn off the television, jumping to your feet. You supposed you should actually wear something nice for a change. You had been lounging around in your pajamas for most of your winter break. It’d be a nice change of pace to switch it up a little and put on something decent. You hadn’t seen Craig-- or Tweek, who was also your friend-- since last summer before you all went back out to college for Sophomore year. Craig was at Boulder, while Tweek was just in Denver. You had chosen to go to Chicago instead. You’d gotten a scholarship, so why the fuck not? It had also helped your plans of getting away from this small, mountain town too.

He was actually there in ten minutes, not five, but you had been expecting that. Craig was obnoxiously late to everything. He’d be late to his own funeral if he could. He laid on the horn for a good fifteen seconds, causing your brows to snap together in annoyance. He was out there acting like you were the one who was late! Huffing, you grabbed your messenger bag and slid out the front door, making sure to pat your pockets to check for your keys before closing it all the way. You had locked it from the inside and didn’t want to come home to realize you couldn’t get back in.

He looked good. Your first glance at him as you walked over to his car told you that his hair was a little shaggier, but he was still wearing that damn hat. As you opened the passenger side door, your eyes took in the whole appearance. “Well look at you,” you greeted. “Looking just as casually hipster as ever.”

“I don’t look hipster,” Craig told you in that emotionless, nasally voice of his. His eyes slid over to connect with your own before easing away again. “Get in. Let’s go.”

You closed the door and buckled yourself in, allowing your bag to sit between your feet on the floor. “How’s Boulder?”

“Better than South Park,” came his reply a few moments later. It was a simple ride to Tweak Bros, mostly because in South Park everything was close to everything else. After he responded to your question you both fell silent; there wasn’t much to talk about quite yet, or maybe you were both even feeling a bit awkward. You weren’t one hundred percent sure at this point. Knowing Craig, he just didn’t want to put the effort in to make meaningless conversation. You just felt awkward.

“How’s Chicago?” He finally asked it as he parallel parked in front of the shop. You glanced over at him as your fingers went to undo the buckle, raising a brow. He looked at you blankly. “What?”

“Surprised you even asked,” you responded with a chuckle as you opened the door and hopped out. “The Craig Tucker from high school wouldn’t give a damn.”

“I’m the Craig Tucker from college,” he said gruffly as he shook his head at you, rolling his eyes. His finger actually came up to flip you off, which gave you a sense of nostalgia. “I’m asking you.” You weren’t sure if you should, but you felt touched that he didn’t mention the ‘not giving a damn’ part. Could that mean he actually cared? You were probably thinking too far into this. It was Craig, after all.

“It’s great,” you told him honestly. “A lot different from South Park, which I love! No more crazy, whacky adventures because of Stan Marsh and the gang.” Though you did miss making fun of Stan and his friends with Craig, it was a small price to pay for some normalcy in your life. Ever since you moved to South Park in the fourth grade, you had learned that nothing here was ever _normal_. It was always out of control crazy. Just look at Craig! He went to Peru and shot lasers out of his eyes! That was _not_ normal.

The two of you walked side-by-side to the front door of the coffee shop. You could just see Tweek inside, hurrying around to fulfill orders. You hadn’t seen him since last August, and it made you grin as you watched him spazz minutely behind the counter. You missed your old friends; though you were happy to be out of town now, that didn’t mean they hadn’t wormed their way into your heart. Clyde texted you on a regular basis (probably to annoy you) and Token even e-mailed you sometimes. Tweek was the one who usually messaged you on social sites, texted, and e -mailed. He was the only one who seemed to keep in regular touch with you. Craig was usually pretty silent on his end.

A pang wracked your chest, but you ruthlessly shoved it aside. You had to ignore that. Craig and you were growing older, growing apart. It didn’t matter that he didn’t talk to you as often as he used to now. This was what getting older did to friends; they slowly branched into other places in life and left each other behind. You didn’t try to text _him_ after all. But that was mostly because of how stubborn you were; if he wasn’t going to text you first, then why should you waste your time on him!? Huffing, catching Craig’s attention in reality, you kept your eyes straight forward as you marched into the shop. You hadn’t even noticed that Craig had noticed your aggravated sigh. You probably weren’t even aware you had done it aloud.

“Hello, Tweek,” you said brightly as you reached the counter. The blond male jumped, startled, and then turned to blink owlishly at you. When it finally dawned on him who was speaking to him, a small smile lit up his face. He murmured your name, and that was when you reached over the counter to pull him into an one armed hug. He sputtered and you were quite sure that his face was red. Pulling back, you were smug to realize you had been correct. His face was the color of a ripe tomato right about now.

“(Y/N),” he murmured and his eyes darted over to Craig, then back to you. “I-It’s nice to s-see you again.” Thankfully the old nervous twitches he used to have in elementary school had slowly faded, and now he just stuttered occasionally. You were mostly glad because you had hated it when he would spazz the fuck out with a bunch of “nnghs” and grunts in his sentences. It made it hard to follow his train of thought and respond to him.

“It’s good to see you too.” You glanced up at the menu, though you had it memorized by this point. You could probably order your drink blindfolded. Tweek didn’t even wait to see what you would say; he was already flitting about on the machines, whipping it up. By the time your eyes fell from the menu, he was already holding it out to you, a small smile on his lips. “Thanks!” You reached to slide out money from your jeans and handed it over to him, dumping the rest of the change into his tip jar. He practically glowed when you did that; he probably didn’t get a lot because he was usually dropping and spilling drinks on a regular occurrence.

“Craig,” he said and he nodded towards the male. “What do you w-want?”

“Coffee. Black.” Craig was the one who always changed his order each time he entered. You knew he usually had about ten favorites at any given time, and that meant Tweek couldn’t just go about making something like he did with you. You were normal, bland. You ordered the same thing every time and never grew bored of it. It was probably one of the main problems with why you couldn’t stop liking Craig; once you started liking something, it was damn near impossible to get you to stop. Your eyes had slid over to study the male as he placed his order, and now they clashed with his own as they flicked over to yours. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said and quickly shook yourself, turning away and watching as Tweek got Craig’s coffee. You could just barely make out the slight shift in Tucker’s expression, but he didn’t push you on it. That was the thing with him: he never pushed anyone on anything. He preferred to let people come to him if they wanted to talk, and even then he usually didn’t give two shits about what they were saying. It was hard to get Craig to actually genuinely _care_. He didn’t do it for anyone outside of his circle of friends, and even with those friends he only did it occasionally. Otherwise it just felt like he was putting up with you and pretending to listen to your problems.

“H-here you go,” Tweek murmured and you were both snapped out of your separate thoughts. Craig reached forward to take the hot drink out of his friend’s hands, then paid quietly and headed towards a window booth. It was the same place he sat every time he came in here, and you were already headed in that direction before he had even paid his tab. Some things never change.

Since Tweek had no more customers he trailed along behind you both, standing at the edge of the table instead of sitting down with you. He was probably nervous about being ready for any customers that might walk through the door. “How’s school going, Tweek?” You were the one to ask, of course. Craig was sipping away at his beverage and not paying much attention to you both. Tweek glanced at you, then at Craig, before finally settling his gaze more firmly upon your face. He shrugged one shoulder and bit his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth.

“I’m managing o-okay,” he murmured and his eyes flitted away from your own. That meant he was probably only getting C’s but that was pretty good. Considering the Tweek from years passed, this one was flourishing and really succeeding. His parents used to think he’d never leave South Park and start to get a real life. You were rather proud of him yourself, though you felt foolish for being a ‘mother hen’ about him. “I c-come here on the weekends and work so I can s-see my parents.”

“That’s nice of you, Tweek.” You sipped your own drink as you studied him. You were about to open your mouth to ask him another question, but he beat you to the punch. His eyes were bright as he finally pulled up a chair and seated himself. It was clear by the deserted street outside no one else would be in for awhile yet.

“How’s Chicago? You’re s-so far from h-home. It must be s-scary.” He said this every time he saw you during breaks, mostly because it always rekindled in his mind when his eyes set upon you. You managed a small smile and gave a shrug of your own this time. Living so far away wasn’t so hard; your Aunt lived in one of the suburbs outside of Chicago, so if something happened you had family there to help. Your mother didn’t like it that you refused to be like Craig or Tweek and go closer to home, but this was what you had wanted. You had wanted a life away from South Park.

“It’s a new experience,” you told him honestly. “Though there are people from South Park that are going to school in the area. Wendy is only a few hours away; one time we met up for dinner when she was in the area ‘cause of a convention for her major.” It was the truth. You still had contacts from South Park besides your old group of friends. You talked to Wendy and Bebe occasionally, and Kyle also sent you e-mails from time to time. It wasn’t that you were completely cut off from your old life, or that you didn't have friends who cared about you now. “It was easier on me to live so far away once I made some friends.”

“O-oh,” Tweek muttered and bit his lower lip again. His eyes went to your face, then back to Craig’s again. You furrowed your brows at that and glanced over at the dark haired male yourself. Craig was studying you intently, and probably had been the entire time you were speaking, but now that your eyes were on him he looked away. You blinked in his direction, then turned back to Tweek. It was clear he was the only one who was going to keep up the other end of the conversation. “W-what about... no, nevermind.”

Now that was something new. Tweek usually didn’t completely cut off what he was about to say and refuse to continue. Your brows furrowed as you leaned forward so your elbows could balance on the edge of the table, eyes curious. “What?”

This time Tweek stared at Craig for a few moments before finally opening his mouth to continue. “D-do you have a boyfriend?” His face turned bright red and you just stared blankly at him, stunned he would ask. He usually didn’t try to delve into anyone’s personal life. You looked at Craig yourself to find he was back to watching you, brows furrowed. You frowned back at him before turning back to Tweek.

“Nah,” you replied and shrugged. “I’m not really interested in that whole scene.”

“Y-you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

Tweek was really pushing it today. Where had he found all this confidence all of a sudden? “Why are you interested, Tweek?” Your smile suddenly appeared and you angled towards him, chuckling. “Are you trying to hint that you’re interested?”

“N-no!” Tweek’s face was definitely aflame now. “I was j-j-just curious! T-that’s all!”

“Well you’re the only guy who texts me on a regular basis,” you teased and then leaned back, smile easing up to a more gentle one. “But no, I’ve never had a boyfriend. Why would I need one? I have you two dolts to depend on if I need male muscle.” You sipped your drink again and looked away from the blond, back towards the raven-haired youth sitting across from you. He was staring at you rather pensively, his lips twisted down at the corners. “What, Craig?”

“Nothing,” he responded and went back to his own drink, glancing out the window. “You’re saying there’s no guy who’s shown interest in you?” That question caught you off guard more than Tweek’s had. You hadn’t thought that Craig would give a damn about your social life, let alone the romantic aspect of it. Or lack thereof, anyway.

“Nope,” you responded lightly, attempting to act nonchalant. “Guys just aren’t that into me, I guess. I must be too amazing or something?”

“And there’s no guy _you’re_ interested in?”

It was your turn to pensively stare at Craig. Your brows were pinched and your thoughts were whirling chaotically about in your head. Why was he asking all of these questions? Why did he even care? He had never shown even a vague sense of curiosity in the last two years since you had gone to Chicago. Why was he suddenly wanting to know now? “Craig, are you feeling alright? You’re starting to sound like an actual friend.”

“Ha ha,” Craig muttered. “Funny. Just answer the question.”

“Sure, there’s one guy I’ve liked for awhile.” Fuck it. In a few weeks you weren’t going to see him again for months on end, and by the time you did come face-to-face with him once more, he would probably forget you even hinted at liking him. Craig’s brows shot up and he couldn’t hide the curiosity in his gaze fast enough, though he did try his best. He took a moment to sip at his coffee, though you had a feeling it was more to pretend he wasn’t all that interested in the conversation. Tweek had fallen silent, staring at the both of you with large, round eyes and a partially agape mouth.

“You never thought to tell him you like him?”

“Why would I? He’s not interested in me.”

“How would you know that unless you said something?”

“If he _is_ interested in me,” you began and your eyes had narrowed. “Then why wouldn’t he say something himself?”

There was an awkward silence now. Craig was looking anywhere but at you, while Tweek was studying his fingernails as if they were the most fascinating thing in the room. You scoffed and drank your own beverage, but your eyes didn’t leave the dark haired male in front of you. You were still waiting for an answer. It was starting to become clear-- after a two minute wait-- that Craig had no intention of bringing the topic back up again.

“O-oh!” Tweek jumped to his feet as someone came dashing up to the front entrance of Tweak Bros. “W-welcome to-- o-oh, hi, Clyde.”

“Guys, have you been listening to the radio!?” Clyde asked and he didn’t even stop to listen for an answer, because he dashed into the store and turned on the battered device behind the counter. Tweek was wringing his hands as he hurried forward, attempting to shoo Clyde out from behind the counter. You clambered to your feet and headed over to stand next to the brunette, confused by his abrupt behavior.

You hadn’t seen him in months, and his last text to you had been a week ago. You had figured he’d at least be excited to see you all, maybe say something first, but he was acting frantic. His hair was in disarray and his eyes were bright with anxiety. You turned to the radio, which Tweek had just adjusted so the sound came out clear and crisp. Something brushed against your side and you startled, glancing over to see Craig standing silently next to you. Turning your gaze back to the radio, you waited for the static to finish clearing.

Clyde had turned it to a news station. It was rather odd for him, because he usually only listened to music and didn’t give two craps about the events of the world. You turned to ask him what was going on-- you had even opened your mouth to do so-- when a large horn sound emitted from the device and caused all of you to clap your hands over your ears. “Alert!” came a computerized voice from the machine. “Alert, alert!”

“Clyde--” You cried out, wondering what the fuck was going on. Clyde just hushed you and clamped a hand over your mouth, causing you to yell out muffled words around it. Craig reached out to grasp his hand and fling it off, but Clyde pulled you with him to get out of range.

“Shut up and listen!” Clyde hissed. You fell silent, and Craig dropped his arm, though a lingering look in his eyes hinted at annoyance. It was clear he didn’t like Clyde clamping his hand over your mouth. Both of you shared a look of utter confusion before turning your gazes back to the radio once more. A woman was talking in a fast, frenzied voice and you could barely make out the garbled words she was slurring into the mic.

“An epidemic,” she said and it was one of the only words you caught in her hurried speech. She kept talking and you furrowed your brows, trying to tune your ears more to the sound. “People have been dropping like flies! You are advised to stay indoors until which time we know more about the situation. I repeat, stay indoors until more is known! People are becoming sick and dying out there; you do not want to be caught in the middle of that.”

“Clyde--” You had managed to get his hand partially away from your mouth, trying to speak. He just hushed you again, his arm falling so it was wrapped around your neck instead. It wasn’t a threatening move, and you didn’t feel worried that he had his arm there. It was more like he needed to hold onto something or he would start to fall apart. Craning your head to peer up at his face, you finally noticed how pale he was and the thrown together way he appeared right now. It was as if he had thrown on whatever he could reach and ran right out of his house to the first place he could find.

“Do you know what they’re talking about?” Clyde asked and his eyes swept the room, first to you, then to Craig and Tweek. “Dude, other news stations are reporting it too. It’s not some sickness! Some are saying that the people are dying and then...”

“Then?” You asked and raised your brows at him. Your stomach was knotting itself into an uncomfortable ball and you didn’t like where this conversation was headed. You were starting to get an inkling you knew what Clyde was going to announce.

“They come back!”

“Come back?” Craig sounded less than convinced. “What are you talking about _come back_?”

“Zombies.”

The next few moments passed in utter silence. Nobody moved, except Clyde who clutched you tighter. You were now squirming to get away from him so you could face him directly. More than anything you wanted to see the expression on his face after announcing something so insane like that. Craig stepped forward and reached out, pulling Clyde’s arm off of you so you could move away. Clyde allowed you to go and his arm dropped limply to his side, as he watched each of you absorb what he just said.

“Did you get drunk last night?” Craig was the first to react. You and Tweek were still just staring numbly at the brunette. “Because this sounds like one of those stupid things you would talk about after you got drunk.”

“I’m not fucking drunk!” There was a pause. “Okay, I had like three drinks last night, but that’s not impairing me so much that I think we’re having a zombie apocalypse right now! I fucking _know_ we are, dude! It’s all over the news!”

“Maybe we should knock him over the head with something,” you mused as you tapped your lower lip, debating. “When he wakes up he’ll see reason and realize he was temporarily insane there for a little bit.”

“Tweek, do you have a TV in this place, man?” Clyde rounded on the blond. Tweek jumped, startled that someone was suddenly forcefully talking to him, but he was quick to reply.

“Y-yeah!” He replied and nodded furiously. “It’s in the back! M-my parents don’t like to k-keep it in the front.”

“Come on,” Clyde snapped and shoved his way past the door leading to the back, even though Tweek instantly started protesting. He was probably worried his parents wouldn’t like non-workers back there. You sighed and followed along behind Clyde, allowing Craig and Tweek to bring up the rear. “Let me just get this piece of junk onto the right station and then you guys can _see_ as well as hear.”

“Do you think this is some mass prank?” Craig asked and you glanced over at him, raising a brow. He stared back at you, nonplussed. “We’re from South Park. You can never put it past them not to pull a mass prank like this.”

“Does this seem like something Stan’s gang would do?” You weren’t so sure. Cartman was more for world domination than zombies, and the others seemed sensible for the most part. Why would anyone want others to believe the end of the world was nearing? Craig shrugged. Tweek just looked panicked. You hoped for his sake that zombies weren’t suddenly cropping up. You weren’t sure Tweek could handle himself in that kind of situation.

“There!” Clyde yelled as he finally got the TV tuned to a good news channel. The pictures that were flooding the screen, the video clips... well, they were horrifying. It really did look like a zombie outbreak. There was a lot of screaming in the background as a news reporter-- looking harried and disheveled-- explained that outside the news building in Denver, it was mass panic and slaughter. “Do you believe me now?” Clyde asked quietly as you all soaked it in.

“I-I don’t think h-he’s lying a-anymore,” Tweek whispered and his voice sounded horrified. Turning to look at him, you saw his face was pasty white and it appeared as if any second he was going to faint. He clutched a table nearest him to keep himself upright, gulping down loud rasping breaths of air to try and steady himself with. “I-I think t-this i-i-is really h-h-happening..” His stutter was worse than usual, hinting at the nerves rushing through him right now.

“What do we do?” Craig was the first one to ask the serious question. It was floating through everyone’s heads. People joked about this all the time, but no one ever seriously thought it would happen. What does one do during a zombie apocalypse? None of you were prepared for this. Your mind was almost completely blank as you stared at each boy in turn; nothing was whirling in your thoughts, nothing had really settled in yet. What were you all supposed to _do_?

“We should get back to our parents,” Clyde muttered. “Well, you guys should. Mine are out of town this week. I tried calling them, but their cells are off.”

“My parents went on an overnight trip. They won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon,” you responded. There was a tingling in your fingers that hinted at a rising panic, and your gut was clenching up. Sheer terror was going to be your next reaction, because seriously? How the fuck else does one respond to this sort of shit!?

“Is it still safe in South Park?” Craig asked.

“When I was running here, it was quiet as death out there, man,” Clyde said. “I have no idea. Maybe it’s already happening right now.”

That thought sent shivers down everyone’s spines. “We have to find a place to hole up, at least,” Craig muttered. Clyde cut him off.

“Or get the hell out of here.”

“It might be safer to stay here,” you piped up. “More cut off from the rest of the world, more likely we can hole ourselves up and make a stand. You know?”

“Yeah... maybe...” Clyde didn’t sound that convinced. There was a long moment of silence as the four of you stood there, thinking to yourselves. Your parents... you should call them. Your cell phone was still out in the front; you’d have to do that the very next chance you got. Did they even bring their cells with them? Your parents were known to be ‘oldies’ and choose to leave their phones at home when they went out.

“We should at least try to fortify ourselves somewhere safe, and get as much food as we can.” Clyde finally spoke again and his eyes were hard, determined. “Let’s see if any of the old gang is around. Safety in numbers, right?” He was looking at Craig as he said that.

“Yeah, sure,” Craig replied. He didn’t look or sound convinced, but Clyde looked better now that he had something to do. Clyde nodded firmly, then turned and rushed from the room.

“Meet us back here in an hour, Clyde!” You yelled after him. If the phones weren’t working, then it’d be good to know where to meet up later. Clyde yelled something, but you couldn’t decipher what it was. You hoped it was agreement. You turned to look at your two friends, worry clenching in your gut. “What about us?”

“I’m g-going to c-call my parents,” Tweek muttered and then shuffled to the front, where the phone was. You watched him go before turning your gaze to Craig. He was staring blankly at the TV, which hadn’t been turned off. More pictures and clips were being shown, and looking at it yourself only made your stomach seize even more.

“Craig?”

“Let’s go find weapons.” His voice was soft, and you almost didn’t catch what he was saying. He reached out and grasped your wrist, tugging you towards the front.

“O-okay,” you murmured, and followed along behind him towards his car.


	2. (two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if people were already dying? What if a friend or two were already lost forever to you? You closed your eyes for a moment and willed yourself to have some strength. Your friends weren’t stupid; they would realize to go somewhere safe and to stick it out there.

You managed to grab your phone before Craig dragged you out of the coffee shop. The two of you quickly went to his car and slid inside, silence reigning. You had no idea what to say, honestly. What was one supposed to say after finding out a zombie apocalypse was happening? _Hey, man, it’ll be okay. At least we can blow our brains out if becoming a brain eating monster is imminent._ You had a feeling that wasn’t going to help the situation.

“Do you mind if I call my parents?” You asked him as he began driving, and he only nodded mutely in acceptance. You flipped open your phone and pressed the quick dial button for your mother, listening as it rang. It just kept ringing with no answer forthcoming, making dread curl in your gut. Finally it went to voicemail and you heard your mother’s bubbly, cheerful voice say to leave a message. “Ma,” you mumbled, “when you get this message, call me back, okay? I’m really worried. Have you been seeing the news on TV? Call me back please. Love you. Bye.” Then you hung up and shoved the cell back into your messenger bag.

You let the silence recapture you as Craig made a turn onto a familiar street; he was going to his house, you could already tell. “What about your family?” You asked him. Your eyes dragged over to study his pale, neutral expression. He shook his head.

“They took my sister to visit my grandma,” he told you quietly. “They were supposed to be back next week.” It was clear he was worried. “I’ll try to call them once we reach the house.”

“Okay,” you replied. Silence stretched between you both again: crackling with anxiety and nerves. Neither of you were too sure what you were supposed to do from here on out. There was no parental guidance to lend a helping hand, no mother or father to say _it’ll be alright, kids, let us help you out_. You could all end up dying before they showed back up, or they could disappear and you would never know what happened to them. Gods, why hadn’t school covered something like this? South Park had been weird enough. No one would have batted an eye if they had offered a course about zombie survival!

The car jerked to a halt and Craig turned it off a moment later. “My dad has some guns,” he told you, his voice sounding listless. Your eyes slid over to him to see his hands had fallen into his lap, and he was studying them with an indifferent expression. You were in much the same boat; depression was bearing down hard on the two of you as you thought of your predicament. “We can go in and get them, then head back.”

“Where are we going to hole up?” You asked him, and he shrugged, attempting to appear uninterested in the conversation. You knew Craig though. He might try to hide behind facades, but you knew him. You knew he was very interested in this whole planning stage, and that he was worried about his family, himself, the future, his friends, and by reason of association... you. “Come on,” you told him as you opened your door and began to step out. Once you were safely upon the sidewalk, you glanced back at him and shot him a rueful smile. “Let’s get this over with.”

You shut the door behind you and walked towards his front door, hearing Craig leave his van soon after and follow after you. You paused in front of the door, so that Craig could fish for the right key from his keyring and then unlock it. “This way,” he said as he stepped inside and held the door open for you. You had been looking back out at the street, unnerved by how eerily silent it was now. It was almost like death was stalking the streets, picking off anyone who made too much noise. It was making goosebumps appear on your arms and you shivered a little, jerking out of your musing when Craig spoke up.

“Sure,” you said and stepped in after him. You took the door from his grasp and shut it, locking it for good measure. There was a moment where Craig peered at you silently, his dark eyes thoughtful and roaming over your face. You tilted your head a bit to the side, perplexed. “What?” You asked him and reached up one hand, gingerly poking at your cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head. “Never mind,” he muttered and turned away, starting to climb up the stairs that were placed a few feet ahead and to the side in the main entry hall. “My parents’ room is upstairs. Come on, let’s get these things and get out.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still unsure. He was starting to worry you. Even though Craig was known to be on the quiet side, he wasn’t usually _this_ pensive. It was everything piling up on him and becoming too much. Heaven knows it was curling disquietly in your gut, making you feel like you were going to throw up or lose your sanity at any moment. Why was this all happening? What had started it? You were almost too scared to watch more of the news when you got back to the others, fearful of what it might bring.

Craig led the way down the hallway at the top of the stairs, towards a room you had never headed towards before. In middle school, his room had still been upstairs but in the opposite direction of his parents. He had the only room on the left of the stairs, while his sister and parents had two rooms to the right. He shoved open the door and strolled in, hands in his pockets, and meandered towards the closet. A gun safe was revealed to be in the depths, and he quickly slid one hand out to enter the combination needed to get the guns.

“Thankfully my dad keeps enough ammo to supply a small army,” he muttered as the door finally clicked and opened, revealing three sets of guns: a rifle, a pistol, and a revolver. “I never understood why he had them. He said when he was younger he inherited them from his dad, who liked guns.” You studied Craig as he spoke, his face pointed towards you but his eyes not alighting on your form. You nodded along with his words, showing you were listening. He picked out the pistol and handed it towards you. It felt awkward in your hands and you held it carefully, worried you’d do something wrong with it. “The safety is here,” he muttered and stepped closer.

Suddenly he was invading your space, making your breath catch in the back of your throat and your heart hammer wildly. Your blood was pumping hot in your veins, and your heartbeat was thrumming an uneven tattoo in your chest. It felt like it was attempting to burst free and run away, and your chest clenched painfully. You could smell Craig’s deodorant and even the natural scent he usually exuded, though those smells weren’t really helping your nerves right now. He paused for a moment, and your brain was screaming at him to do something, to not make this any more awkward than you already were.

His fingers trailed over your hands as he went to where you were grasping the pistol, and he pointed out the safety catch for you. You nodded vehemently, hoping that would make him back off, wishing that he would stay close. It had been so long since he had stood this close to you, close enough for you to feel his breath puff out against your cheek. You didn’t dare look up at him, instead keeping your eyes glued on the gun. “You have to remember this,” he told you softly as his hand dropped away. “If you don’t turn the safety off, you won’t be able to shoot.”

“O-okay,” you mumbled. Your heart reached out towards him as he finally took a step back, leaving your personal bubble and giving you room to breath once more. You took a moment to gather your scattered wits about you, before jerking your head up and taking a deep breath. You were not going to let this crush effect you. You were not going to lose your head around him when he stood too close or touched you in a friendly, completely platonic manner. He did not like you in that way. It had been years since you had had a real hope of him returning your feelings. He wasn’t going to suddenly realize-- because the world was ending-- that he liked you the way you had always wished for.

Craig grabbed the other two guns, making sure each one had the safety switched on, before shutting the safe. He didn’t bother locking it this time though. He had already gotten everything he needed from it. Scrounging around in the closet, he pulled out a backpack and began filling it with ammo and other things you would need for the guns. “Should I go gather something else?” You asked him, feeling a bit useless as you held the pistol in your hands. You glanced down to make sure the safety was still on-- and hadn’t suddenly turned off in the last two minutes-- before sliding it into the waistband of your jeans. You really didn’t have anywhere else to put it.

Craig paused and glanced over his shoulder at you. “Go look for some food in the kitchen?” He suggested. You nodded in agreement; it was a good idea. You would be needing some food later on, and you might as well gather all that you could now. You turned to head out, when suddenly Craig’s hand grasped your wrist. You glanced back at him, confused, and his eyes were intense as they bored into your own. “Be careful,” he told you in a quiet murmur.

“I’m only going to the kitchen,” you said, attempting to sound lighthearted, attempting to sound like this was all no big deal. You could go on pretending that the world was fine, and everything wasn’t coming down around your ears. It would be pointless though. Both of you knew shit was hitting the fan and things probably weren’t ever going to be the same again. “I’ll be fine,” you assured him. Craig’s hand tightened for one moment, before he tore his gaze away and nodded.

“Be down soon,” he told you and released his grip on your body part, allowing you to leave the room. You nodded, though he was no longer looking at you, and then exited the bedroom. You took a moment when you were completely out of sight to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths, before heading down the hall to the stairs. The entire house was quiet; you couldn’t even hear Craig upstairs once you reached the kitchen. You felt like you were stuck in some Twilight Zone shit, and you couldn’t get out no matter how hard you tried to claw your way free. Things were weird in South Park, but you didn’t have enough courage to go seeking out the truth yet.

What if people were already dying? What if a friend or two were already lost forever to you? You closed your eyes for a moment and willed yourself to have some strength. Your friends weren’t stupid; they would realize to go somewhere safe and to stick it out there. They wouldn’t go blasting off into the unknown. Feeling marginally better, you headed to find some bags for the food you’d gather. Thankfully, Craig’s mom kept those reusable grocery bags made out of fabric, and you used that to load up on some of the things they had laying around. You mostly focused on the pantry, because those foods wouldn’t spoil quickly. You loaded up on anything that would be useful, and even some of the food you could eat right away before they had a chance to spoil.

Luck was smiling upon you when you found the large first aid kit under the sink. You’d have to check the bathroom too, for more medicine and such! That would be a good thing to have on hand. After getting everything you could possibly manage to carry right now, you headed to the bathroom to stock up on those essentials. Halfway through picking apart another first aid kit-- that didn’t seem to have anything more than burn salve, it was apparent they had used everything else useful out of it-- Craig appeared behind you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when one moment nothing was there, and the next he was standing in the doorway, peering down at you.

“You ready?” He asked. He had two backpacks now, slung haphazardly with one on each shoulder, and a bag was in his hands. You clambered to your feet and nodded. Picking up the third bag you had started to fill with toiletries and medicine, you headed back to the kitchen to get the other kitchen goods. Craig reached out and took one of the heavier ones, though you protested. He already was carrying a lot, but he waved you off and headed for the front door.

“Here,” he said as he paused before exiting. He reached into the closet and pulled out a baseball bat, handing it to you. “We might need it too.” You nodded and took it from him, then followed him outside and closed the door behind you. Craig had locked it after him-- probably out of habit-- so you just both hurried to the car now. You were loading the things in when there came a sound from behind you that made the hairs on the back of your neck raise.

You almost didn’t want to turn around. It was a shuffling, groaning sound that was starting up behind you, and you closed your eyes for just a moment. Just a moment you allowed this little weakness, because you knew everything was about to become so transparently _real_ once you turned around. Slowly, dreading what you would see, you turned around to face the horror.

A zombie.

You had never thought you would ever be able to say you’d seen one in real life. It was shuffling slowly towards the van, and Craig probably hadn’t realized yet. He was on the other side, loading up his own things. You sucked in a breath through your clenched teeth, not sure if you should use the baseball bat in your hands or the gun in your waistband. The gun would probably draw more unwanted attention. “Craig,” you hissed quietly, trying to get his attention without causing a panic. “Let’s get in the car now.”

“Huh?” He asked and he looked up at you from across the van, before his eyes went to what you were staring at. “Shit,” he cursed vehemently and quickly unlocked the driver’s side, reaching over to get your door too. You had never felt more angry that Craig had never gotten that damn lock button fixed so he could just press a button and voila! The zombie was getting closer now, face a pale grey in color, lips spewing disgusting, rotting saliva. How long had this person been dead? You couldn’t even recognize them, so thankfully it wasn’t anyone you knew. You slid the van door closed before hurrying to open the passenger door to clamber in.

Craig turned on the car, and you peered at the zombie as he drove away. At least your first encounter hadn’t been that bad. You knew eventually you would have to fight, but this time at least wasn’t horrible. The zombie was still shuffling towards the road as Craig took off. The two of you remained silent for a long while, neither of you speaking aloud the thoughts that were panicking in your head. It was real now. This was actually happening. People were dying, and coming back as... those _things_.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, hands clenching in your lap. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” What were you even supposed to do!? No one taught you this shit growing up. It was always people listing why it _couldn’t_ happen, why it never _would_. No one ever prepared you for the impossible, no one ever thought to tell you what to do if it ever did end up becoming a reality. Craig remained silent as you cursed, his eyes glaring at the road ahead of him as he drove. “Craig,” you said and you looked at him, actually looked at him for the first time.

He looked as freaked out as you right now. His face was pale-- paler than it usually was-- and his hat was a little crooked. He was chewing on his bottom lip as he drove, probably freaking out mentally himself. He glanced over at you as he drove, probably feeling your gaze. “What?” He asked and then looked in front again, before glancing wildly back at you again when you didn’t move to respond right away. “(Y/N), what?” He tried again.

You said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t even know how to use a fucking gun,” you sputtered and you knew you were close to losing it. You could practically feel the color coming to your cheeks, and your eyes squinted and fell away from him. You were going to cry. Was this a normal reaction? Who even know anymore, really, because all of this was so out of control--

Craig reached out and grasped one of your clenched hands in your lap, giving it a hard squeeze. “I’ll show you,” he told you, and his voice was gentle, calm. You looked up at him and loosened your fist so you could entangle your fingers with his own. He kept staring out front as he drove back to Tweak Bros, but the grim look he gave you was meant to be comforting. “We’ll be fine.”

“There you guys are!” Clyde yelled as soon as you and Craig entered a few minutes later. He had been pacing behind the counter, and his hair was a little bit more wild than last time you saw him. He must have been running his hands through it. There were three more people than last time, which meant he had succeeded in finding more people to group together. Tweek was nowhere to be seen, but you figured he was probably in the back freaking out. Your eyes went to the new additions.

Kyle Broflovski was taller than you remembered, but his red hair was still as untamable as ever. It was almost a relief to see something normal, something you remembered from when you were younger. Kyle looked up at you as you looked over at him, and he managed a small smile. “Hey,” he greeted. “I didn’t know you were in town, (Y/N).” Your eyes drifted to the other person next to him: Ike Broflovski, his younger brother.

The last addition was Stan Marsh. Kyle and Stan had probably been together when Clyde had found them, since from what you heard they were still inseparable. They had even gotten into the same college. He raised a hand to greet you when your eyes went to him. You turned back to Kyle, who was the only person you had kept in touch with outside of high school.

“It was a last minute thing,” you told him. “I wasn’t going to come, but then my parents convinced me.” Which was the truth. You were going to wait until summer to come visit, but your parents had been insistent. You knew it was because they missed you terribly; as the only child of your parents, they were always trying to find a reason to get you to come visit. When you had graduated, they had presumed they would have more time with you because you’d be like other kids and stay close to home. It had been a nasty shock when you had announced you had received a full ride scholarship to Chicago. Your mother had cried for a week, and your father kept trying to convince you they didn’t mind paying for Boulder.

“Where’s Tweek?” You asked as you set your bags down in one of the empty booths. Clyde jerked his thumb to the back; you had figured that was where he was. Since your suspicions were confirmed, you started heading there.

“He’s freaking,” Clyde told you, grabbing your shoulder to prevent you from going in right away. You looked at him and nodded, showing you understood. “His parents answered the phone call, but then it got disconnected when they started screaming. Something got into the house and... he hasn’t been able to get in contact since.”

Dread curled in your gut. You tore your shoulder out of Clyde’s grasp, and slipped into the back. Tweek was collapsed on a desk in the corner, his head in his hands and he was rocking very slowly as if to calm himself. “Tweek,” you murmured as you approached him slowly, trying not to startle him. It was for nothing though. He jerked and whirled around, staring at you with wide eyes. “Hey,” you greeted and forced a smile, dragging up a seat next to him.

You wanted to ask if he was okay, but that seemed rather obvious that he wasn’t. You wanted to tell him things would be fine, but you had no way of knowing that. When Craig told you, you felt better because one: you loved the boy, and two: nothing had really happened to you yet. Tweek knew that something was happening, or had already happened, and it was make him lose his cool. “I’m sure if they can, they’ll make their way here to you,” you told him, the only thing that was coming to your mind to say.

Tweek studied you, his lower lip trembling. You had seen Tweek cry on plenty of occasions: especially in middle school, when he was still being picked on quite frequently. But it was different now, in this situation, to watch as his face crumbled. The tears leaked out, and you reached forward to grasp him in a hard hug. You didn’t want him to feel alone; he had his friends here with him, and he could depend on all of you to help him. “I’m here, Tweekers,” you told him gently. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, okay?”

The next few moments passed in silence as Tweek tried to get his composure back. You allowed him to sniffle before pulling back, a wan smile on his lips. “S-s-sorry,” he mumbled and looked anywhere but at you, picking at imaginary lint on his shirt. He had actually taken off the work uniform and instead was just in casual attire. You playfully punched him on the shoulder, forcing your lips to twist into a small smile.

“No problem,” you told him. “That’s what friends are for.”

He glanced up at you, biting his lower lip, before he nodded. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” he told you quite plainly, and for a moment your cheeks actually tinged pink. It was rare for any of your old friends to admit they were glad to have you around. Sure, they were nice to you, but none of them ever showed appreciation towards you being there for them. You were sure it was the same with you to them. You didn’t ever think about these sorts of things, about thanking them and telling them how much you care. Now that the world was falling apart... you should start thinking about doing it more often.

 _In case you never got another chance,_ hung heavily in the air, unsaid, and you tried to shove it from your mind. “I’m really glad I’m your friend too,” you told him and kept the smile in place, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes. You were too sad, too nervous to actually let anything really affect you positively right now. “My life would be pretty bad without you.” You got to your feet and offered a hand. “Come on. We all have to talk about where we need to hole up for safety.”

“Are we n-no-not going to stay h-here?” He asked as he got to his feet. You shrugged. It was a possibility, though you had a feeling it wouldn’t be very safe here. There were too many windows out front and that made it a bit unsafe. You needed somewhere quiet, somewhere that was harder to break into.

“We’ll see,” you told him and the two of you exited from the backroom. Clyde had finally collapsed at a booth with Craig, meanwhile Kyle, Stan, and Ike were still off on their own, speaking in hushed tones. When you and Tweek entered, everyone fell silent. “I think we need to figure out where we’re going to set up our base or whatever,” you announced and shoved your hands into your pockets, trying to hide the nervous way your fingers wanted to twitch with the fabric of your shirt.

“Yeah,” Clyde agreed and jumped to his own feet. “Too many windows here, man.”

Tweek worried his bottom lip. “A-aren’t we worried a-about moving t-though?” He asked. You were sure he was more worried about his parents than anything. Though you did wholeheartedly understand that, you also knew that you all had to think about your own safety first and finding other survivors second.

“It’s better to move now before shit hits the fan,” Stan pointed out. Kyle nodded next to him, while Ike just clung to his brother, eyes round and glassy in his face. You were sure Kyle had had to soothe his younger brother earlier. It looked like both boys had a haunted look about them, though Kyle was keeping it together as the older, more mature brother. Your brows furrowed as you studied them. Something had happened there. Where were their parents?

“But where are we moving to?” Clyde asked and this question seemed to stump everyone. Silence reigned for a full two minutes, before you finally lit up. There was a place closeby that would be perfect; it was very rarely used, and easily fortified. It was a little out of the way from everywhere else, a five minute drive to the edge of the town, but it would be perfect. There were a few windows on the second floor, but the first floor had only a few. You could easily board those up.

“What about the library?” You asked, throwing it out there for the others to chew over. You watched as each person thought it over in their own mind, weighing the pros and cons. Craig’s brows were furrowed and, as if sensing you were watching him, he glanced up and his eyes clashed with your own. You quickly looked away, though you weren’t quite sure why. “There aren’t that many windows on the first floor, and we can easily fortify it, right?”

“It’s a good idea,” Kyle said and flashed you a small smile. You smiled back. At least you weren’t the only one who thought so. Stan was nodding along, and it seemed if Kyle was happy with the plan, then so was Ike. He chipped in with an agreement on the library. You felt bad that he had to deal with this crap, because he was only thirteen. When you were thirteen, you were more interested in school and your crush on Craig than having to fend for survival against zombies.

“Alright,” Clyde said. “Everyone for the library, raise your hands!” Everyone did, except for Tweek who seemed to be hesitating. He looked around at how many people thought it was a good idea, and you leaned towards him as you spoke.

“I know you’re worried about your parents, but we should focus on surviving first,” you told him softly, in almost a whisper so he’d be the only one to hear. “You’re not going to be able to find them again if you’re not safe and alive.”

Tweek peered at you earnestly, his lower lip trembling, before he sucked in a breath and nodded. He also raised his hand. That meant that the vote was passed with ease, though you were sure eventually there would be more problems with this kind of thing in the future. For right now, though, you might as well focus on the present. You would worry about the future when it came. Everyone began gathering up whatever they had initially brought with them, and then more things they might need from Tweak Bros. It was agreed that Clyde, Craig, and Stan would head over to Clyde’s to get his car. Craig handed over the keys to you.

His hand grasped your own once you took them, his eyes intense. “Stay safe,” he told you in a low whisper. Everyone else was hurrying around you both, but for a moment you were in this bubble with Craig, warm and aglow. You smiled at him and reached out to punch him lightly on the shoulder.

“I’ll stay safe,” you told him, “for you.” You smiled at him and for a moment the time stretched and you wished it would never end. But of course this was reality and it had to end, and worry was clawing in your throat that you might never _see him again_. This was not something you wanted to think about though, you wanted to remain hopeful and cheerful... it was just getting to be so hard now.

“See you soon,” Craig told you and then he released your hands, taking a step back and walking out to follow Clyde and Stan. You watched him go, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. A hand settled on your shoulder and you turned to find Tweek standing there, smiling at you very minutely.

“He’ll be okay,” he whispered. “Don’t worry.” You tried to smile back, but it felt fake and frozen on your face. Your heart was convulsing with worry in your chest and for a moment you wished that you had never woken up this morning. That you had continued to sleep and that you hadn’t had to deal with all of this.

“Come on,” Kyle piped up from behind you both. You turned to see him holding two bags in his hand, with Ike trailing behind him. “Let’s head to the library.”

You nodded your head. Allowing the others to go out first-- you and Craig hadn’t locked his car, so they were able to go straight to it-- you glanced around as you exited. The street was still quiet, and there was no sight of any zombies. Yet. You did feel very strange though, as if you were being watched, and you found you hated the sensation.

“(Y/N),” Kyle called, jerking you from your thoughts. You turned and blinked owlishly at him, before realizing that you were supposed to be driving. The others were already in the car.

“O-oh! Right,” you muttered and slid behind the wheel, turning on the car. It wouldn’t take long for Craig to reach the library after they were done, so you just had to keep going until then. Everything would be okay.

Craig would stay safe.

The words sounded somewhat hollow to your own ears, but you kept repeating them anyway the entire drive to the library.


	3. (three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Down at the end of the aisle of old tomes was a bent over figure. It looked as if they had crumpled there, either from sickness or fatigue, you weren’t sure which. But you knew that this person was no longer alive, because there was a gash running down their arm that was turning green and oozing blood. The bent over person swayed a little on the balls of their feet, their back turned towards the two of you.
> 
> It appeared you had found where the librarian had gone.

“First, we should board up those windows,” Kyle said, and you were actually kind of glad he took charge. The four of you had reached the library with very little incident. Besides Ike tripping out of the van and smashing his face into the ground-- causing him to have a ferocious nose bleed-- you had all gotten here without anything bad happening. Kyle had promptly gone with you-- the only person with a weapon-- and checked out the library to make sure it was safe. It had been unlocked, strangely enough, though there wasn’t a soul inside.

“Someone should c-c-check the basement,” Tweek pointed out timidly as he stood just inside the library doors, glancing around nervously. Ike was standing next to his brother by the front desk, where the librarian usually sat, while you were hanging next to an aisle of children books. The children section had always been in the very front of the library, by the entrance, while the older books were deeper in the stacks and on the second floor. All of the research for the local college kids were placed deep in the basement below; you were not looking forward to going down there to check out the place.

“I’ll go check,” you volunteered, because you knew it would end up being you anyway. You were the only one with a weapon, though you had handed the bat over to Kyle. Tweek had looked at it as if it was going to grow a mouth and bite his hands off, and you figured Ike wouldn’t be up to the task quite yet. Kyle had happily taken it off your hands and thanked you, appearing grateful to have something to protect himself with in an emergency. But a gun was definitely better than a bat, so you assumed it would be best if you went to check things out downstairs.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Kyle asked. By the way Ike quickly glanced at him, you could tell that the younger Broflovski didn’t want to go to the basement, but would be forced to because he didn’t want to leave Kyle alone. You shook your head, and Kyle frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured the group at large. “I can handle myself.” Though you had never really used a gun before, you were sure you’d be fine. There shouldn’t be too many zombies in the library, right? It wasn’t like they all had a thirst for knowledge and sought the place out. You’d be just fine as long as you played it safe and checked around every corner. Though the librarian being nowhere and the door being unlocked _did_ make you pause and wonder. Where had she gone?

Tweek reached out and grasped the sleeve of your shirt when you turned to leave. You glanced back at his worried gaze, and flashed a smile. “Seriously, Tweek, I’ll be okay,” you reassured him once more. He just studied you and bit his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. A decision seemed to be solidifying in his gaze, and then he nodded his head firmly.

“I know,” he told you and released his grip on you. “But I’m going to come with you too! You shouldn’t have to go alone.” For once he didn’t stutter, and you had a feeling it was because he was trying to act brave. His fingers were trembling minutely though, and that tipped you off that it was all just bravado. You did feel a bit of warmth curl in your stomach as you gazed at him, and you grinned.

“Thanks,” you told him and then the two of you headed for the door in the very back that would lead to the stairwell. You opened the door and held it until Tweek followed you in, then closed it behind him. You slowly took the steps one at a time, careful not to trip, and you could hear the thumps of Tweek’s footsteps following behind yours. The two of you slowly went below to the basement, not bothering to utter a word to each other in fear that something else might hear too. You opened the door at the bottom and stepped into the dark, cool room that held all the large, dusty tomes for research.

A light in the very back was flickering, and it cast odd shapes against the walls back there. It made you shiver, because it all appeared so horror-movie like. You wished it didn’t have to be you doing this sort of thing, but you knew that it was better done now rather than putting it off. “Come on,” you whispered to your friend, and the two of you began to slowly walk through the room, glancing down each aisle. One after the other, you found nothing interesting and you were starting to feel a bit better. You’d be okay. It didn’t appear that anything was lurking down in the depths of the library, waiting to strike at the most opportune moment.

Suddenly a choked sound came from behind you, causing you to whirl around to see what had happened. Tweek was staring down one aisle you had overlooked, one that you had thought he would peer down himself. He had taken the left side of the room, while you had taken the right. You walked back to stand next to him and look towards where he was staring.

Down at the end of the aisle of old tomes was a bent over figure. It looked as if they had crumpled there, either from sickness or fatigue, you weren’t sure which. But you knew that this person was no longer alive, because there was a gash running down their arm that was turning green and oozing blood. The bent over person swayed a little on the balls of their feet, their back turned towards the two of you.

It appeared you had found where the librarian had gone.

You reached out and grasped Tweek’s wrist, pulling him to stand behind you. He didn’t have a weapon on him, and it wasn’t like even if he did he’d be able to use it. You steeled yourself, pulling the gun from your waistband and raising it in front of you. Your hands were shaking very lightly, but you took in a soft breath to calm yourself. You just had to shoot her. You just had to put a bullet in her brain and that was it, she’d be down for the count. You couldn’t feel pity, you couldn’t sit here and waver. You had friends depending on you, and you sure as hell wanted to see Craig again when he got back.

You had to forget that you knew this woman growing up. She had a life, a family, loved ones. Her whole life was unfolding in front of her, and now it was gone. Your hands trembled again and Tweek made a soft whimpering noise behind you, reminding you that you had to shoot now and think later. _think later think later think--_ You pulled the trigger.

 

\---

 

Life for Craig had always been boring.

He knew exactly what was going to happen while he was in South Park, and he knew that he would hate it to the very depths of his soul. The only things about South Park he liked were his friends and his family. Though his dad did have a bit of a temper, Craig had learned to ignore it. He took after his mother, as did his younger sister. Their dad was the one with all the emotions and he clearly displayed them whenever he wanted to. Craig didn’t _do_ emotions. They just weren’t his cup of tea.

This zombie apocalypse was making him reevaluate never showing emotions though.

He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, looking down. His whole body was shaking like a leaf, and even though he knew he had to jump, he just wasn’t ready yet. He knew he was going to have to do things that he would hate, that would make him question himself and his sanity, but they would have to be done. If he didn’t do it, people could die and then it would be all his fault. He couldn’t let that happen. There were people he loved and wanted to keep safe, even if he didn’t always show it outwardly. Tweek, Token, Clyde, his family, you..

His thoughts always seemed to go back to you. Right now, even though he was helping Clyde and Stan pack up some needed items and put it into Clyde’s truck, his mind was still on you. Were you okay at the library? You were probably shadowing Tweek and making sure the blond didn’t fall apart. Kyle was level headed, and he would keep that group safe. Craig would have rathered go along with you to keep an eye on you-- you weren’t known for thinking things completely through all the time-- but he hadn’t wanted to argue with Clyde. It would be selfish to admit he wanted to go with the other group because he didn’t want to leave your side, not because it would have been the right thing to do.

“Here,” Stan said and handed off two huge bags of canned food. “Do you mind carrying that out to the car? I’m going to go back and grab the last three bags.”

“Sure,” Craig responded apathetically, not really paying attention. He took the bags from Stan and turned back to the truck, lugging the heavy weight to throw into the back. “Is this it?” He asked the next chance he got, when Clyde was coming out with a duffel bag. He had thought maybe Clyde would have more things to gather, but it seemed like this was all he needed. Right now for this moment, anyway. Maybe Clyde would come up with more stuff later, and then they'd have to go back out and get it when it was harder to move around.

“Yeah,” Clyde said. “We can head to the library after this, unless Stan needs to stop by his house?” Craig tried to bite his tongue. He wanted to say _oh shit, I didn’t realize this was a field trip._ He knew he was wanting to say sarcastic, biting things because the sooner he got back to the library, the sooner he could see you were safe with his own eyes. God damn, why did he have to have a crush on his best friend?

“I already got my basic shit from my house,” Stan answered, “but if you wanna stop by and grab some food, that’d be fine. I’m pretty sure we’re going to need more non-perishable foods.” The cans that they had right now would last them a little bit, but it wasn’t going to be good for the long haul. Might as well get more while the calm before the storm was going on, instead of pushing their luck later on down the line. Clyde nodded.

“Don’t you live near (Y/N)? We can stop by her house too. I know where her parents hide the spare key,” Clyde explained. Craig was pretty sure you hadn’t even thought of going to your house yet, and Craig knew where your room was, along with what you would end up needing. It’d be nice to do it now so you didn’t have to worry about your shit later. You were the only girl in the group, so it wasn’t like you could borrow from everyone else when you ended up needing shit.

“Should I ask why you know how to get into (Y/N)’s house?” Stan questioned as they all piled into the truck, and Clyde started up the engine. The freaking thing was so loud, it put Craig on edge every time Clyde did it. It was going to end up drawing unwanted attention sooner or later, when zombies started popping up more frequently. Clyde began to drive, and he shrugged his shoulders as he glanced over towards Stan.

“I dog sat for them a few times while (Y/N) was away in Chicago,” he explained. “Once their dog passed away, they didn’t need me anymore but I still remember where the spare keys are.”

“Right,” Craig responded. He felt like he had to say something, or they were going to start asking questions about where his mind was. He didn’t want to have to admit he was distracted by thoughts of you. Clyde knew that he liked you, but Stan sure as hell didn’t. Craig would rather keep it that way. He didn’t like Tweek, Token, and Clyde knowing, let alone anyone else outside of the group.

Of course the other guys would know. It was apparent that Craig liked you, though he was quite certain you were oblivious. He preferred it that way. He didn’t want to admit his feelings for you and jeopardize the friendship, or possibly hold you back. Craig knew that he was just going to end up back in South Park. It was also well known that you didn’t like it here, and wanted to move out into the larger world once you got the chance. Craig knew you were going to end up cutting all ties after Chicago, and your parents would end up moving out of South Park anyway. Craig didn’t want to actually admit to having feelings for you, see that you had them back, and then you’d be stuck here.

He’d feel guilty as hell if he was the reason you were forced to stay in South Park.

“I’ll get (Y/N) her things,” Craig said as they pulled up in front of Stan’s house. You only lived two houses over and across, so he’d just jog over there and grab some shit, then come back. Clyde had the other gun, so he’d be okay with Stan. Both of the other males nodded in agreement, and then they split up.

Craig would make this quick, and then they could get to the library. He just hoped that everything had gone peaceful there.

 

\---

 

Craig had told you, hadn’t he? Make sure the safety switch was off. You can’t believe you were so stupid! The zombie seemed to have heard the useless click when you tried to fire at her, and she slowly turned in your direction. Gods, this was really like a horror movie. You could feel a trickle of cold sweat slide down the back of your neck and into the collar of your shirt, and your eyes stared in wide horror as glassy, once-bright brown eyes leveled on you.

Tweek was gasping behind you now, clutching the back of your shirt and twisting. You were surprised the fabric hadn’t come apart in his hands by now. He was freaking out, breathing in little pants, and you fumbled to undo the safety switch. Shit, shit, shit! How could you be so fucking stupid!? The switch gave way, and you aimed as best as you could even with your slightly trembling fingers. The zombie was getting to her feet and shuffling towards you, picking up speed.

“Shit,” you cried just as you pulled the trigger. The gun flinched in your grasp from the recoil, but the bullet lodged itself into the zombie’s leg. You weren’t aiming for there! You started stumbling backwards, making Tweek go along with you. You aimed again and fired another shot, just for this one to lodge itself into her collar. She was gaining momentum and she started to run, so you reached backwards and grabbed hold of Tweek, jerking him out of the way as she went crashing past where the two of you had once stood. You whirled and aimed again, shooting. This time luck was on your side, or perhaps divine intervention decided to be kind to you. The bullet went straight through the back of her skull, and she fell face first onto the ground.

The two of you stood there for several heartbeats, both of you panting and out of breath from the moment. You stared at the gaping hole in the back of her head, horror filling your mouth with bile. You swallowed it back down and winced at the taste, telling yourself it was okay. You were fine, you both were fine, everything was fine. “H-h-h-h-how did s-s-she get i-infected?” Tweek managed to stutter out from between numb lips, his eyes also on the zombie.

“I don’t know,” you murmured. You stared at her for a bit longer before shaking yourself. You had to stay focused. The two of you needed to finish looking around, though you had a suspicion there was nothing else down here. If there had been it would have come over from all the noise of the gunshots. You turned and grabbed Tweek by the wrist, tugging and making him follow. “Come on, we have to keep looking.” He only nodded mutely.

“Maybe she got sick,” Tweek whispered as the two of you finished looking in the basement and then headed for the stairs. “That’s what the news had been saying previously. People were getting sick and then dying, before coming back to life as zombies.”

“Yeah,” you said and furrowed your brows. You hated the sound of that. That meant any of you could get sick at any time, and then become one of those things. You didn’t want to focus on that right now. You hoped the news had just gotten it wrong; that someone had gotten bit first, and then started to spread it. Or someone had died and woken back up as a zombie, because it was something that lay dormant within you and waited with baited breath and bared fangs to have a chance to come out. “Maybe.”

As soon as the two of you were back on the first floor, Kyle and Ike were upon you, asking questions. “What happened?” Kyle asked, and Ike was babbling behind him, asking the same thing over and over. “There was something down there, wasn’t there? Are you both okay?”

“We’re fine, Kyle,” you reassured him. “The librarian was down there. I don’t know how, but she was a zombie already. I had to... I had to dispose of her. She’s still down there though. Maybe we should just lock this door and keep out of the basement? Only use it for emergencies or something, I don’t know.” You were shaking now that the adrenaline had worn off. You couldn't believe you had shot someone, had killed them. Well, they were already dead but still. It was freaking you out.

There was a sudden roar of a truck in the distance, and you sighed in relief. Clyde was on his way, and that meant Craig would be with him. You pulled Tweek along-- who was strangely unresponsive, but you were pretty certain he was in shock now-- and set him down at one of the tables. “Rest here, okay? It’s fine now, Tweek,” you told him gently and patted his head. His eyes flickered to your own and he nodded. His face was extremely pale, and you were a bit worried he might pass out at any moment. You would have to keep an eye on him for a little bit until he calmed down again... if he ever calmed down again. With the way things were going, you’d be surprised if any of you were ever okay again.

Kyle and you headed towards the front door of the library, peeking out. Sure enough, Clyde had just parked next to Craig’s van. They instantly all went to the back and started unloading things, so you and Kyle went out to help. Ike trailed along behind you. You reached Craig a moment later. “You okay?” You both asked at the same time upon your eyes meeting. You smiled a little, laughing nervously. That was a bit odd. Craig cracked a faint, barely there grin too.

“I’m fine,” you told him first. “I had to shoot my first zombie. The librarian was in the basement and she’s dead.” Craig’s eyes creased around the corner as he frowned, but didn’t say anything about that. He reached out and took the gun from your waist band, examining it.

“(Y/N),” he said on the end of a sigh. You furrowed your brows and tilted your head to the side, clearly wondering why he sounded so exasperated. He held the gun up for you to see, and flicked the safety switch. “Make sure to turn the safety back on after. You might accidentally kill yourself otherwise.”

You almost felt like hitting yourself in the face. You had been so wrapped up in the moment, that you had forgotten to do something so simple! “Sorry,” you mumbled as he handed back the gun to you. “I forgot.”

“It’s fine. Just be careful next time,” he told you. For a moment you both stared at each other, and then he reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. His eyes studied you, and then he pulled himself away and went back to grabbing bags from the back of the truck. “I got some stuff from your house,” he told you and you blinked, surprised. Turning to peer at him, he shrugged in response. “I figured you’d want some things and forget until it was too late. It’s in these bags,” he told you and jerked his head towards the only blue ones in the very back. He had used some of your mom’s favorite tote bags to carry your things.

“Thanks,” you told him and flashed him a smile before heading over to pick those up. Your entire group went back inside, now more loaded down, and Kyle showed Clyde and Stan where to put the kitchen things. Thankfully the library had a kitchen in the very back, in the employee section, so at least there was that. They had bathrooms too, but of course no showers or tubs. You were going to have to get used to washing yourself in a sink more than likely. It was better than dying though, you supposed, and soon enough the running water would probably stop all together.

That thought made your entire brain freeze up. Everything was going to change, and that made your nerves go on edge. Phones would stop working, water would stop pumping, electricity would cease to exist because no one would be in the factories making sure it kept going out. Everything would fall apart. What were you all supposed to do once your food ran out? You’d have to go back out into South Park and find more, but then... what when that food ran out? You’d have to leave South Park and travel to a new location, with new dangers and new things to freak you all out.

Right now no one seemed to be wanting to talk about it though, those future plans that eventually you would all have to agree on. No one wanted to think of what would happen in the next few days, or weeks, or months possibly. Was the government trying to get the army together to go out and save people, or were you all on your own? Were you stuck in a nightmare you might never get out of? A shiver ran down your spine just thinking of being in this limbo until you died.

“I think we should bunk down on the second floor,” Kyle said once everyone had set their bags down and the front doors had been locked up tight. You had collapsed in a bean bag in the children’s section, and Tweek was leaning back against your legs as if seeking comfort. A tiny part of you wished Craig would sit close to you too, would lean up against you and set his head on your knee, but he was staying away. He was perched precariously on the edge of the former librarian’s desk, his head tilted towards the front doors, staring out one of the windows that had yet to be boarded. You would all do that soon. It had to be done before sundown.

“Why?” Clyde asked. Though it was an obvious answer, it seemed he wanted it to be admitted aloud first. He studied Kyle-- who had seemed to take charge almost easily, like he was made for being the leader-- and tilted his head to the side. No one was upset that Kyle had taken on the mantle of responsibility. You hadn’t wanted it, and you knew Craig and Tweek well enough to know it didn’t suit either of them either. Clyde might have tried, but he was tired and seemed almost happy to give it up to someone else. Stan didn’t seem to mind so much either, probably because it was his best friend, and of course Ike wasn’t even in the running.

“I don’t think zombies can climb,” Kyle pointed out. “Also, it would probably just be safer up there. That way, if they break in down here, we have a chance to hear it and get away.” It was all so logical. You were glad that-- even in the face of the apocalypse-- Kyle Broflovski was still reasonable and logical. He even had less fits of temper too. You were quite proud of him.

“Good point,” Clyde said and then got to his feet. “Enough resting! We should board up as many windows as we can. We don’t need all these desks, so let’s just break them up and nail them over the windows. I brought my dad’s toolbox.”

“Ike,” Kyle said when his little brother tried to follow. “Why don’t you and Tweek go unload all the kitchen stuff? It’ll really help us later.” His younger brother peered up at him, furrowing his brows and frowning, but then relented.

“Okay,” he muttered and turned to head in that direction, Tweek getting up and trailing along behind him. You knew it was just a reason to keep both of them out of harms way. They were probably the weakest links among all of you. You all couldn’t protect them all the time, so it was better to just keep them where harm might not befall either one. You followed along with them to the row of desks in a corner of the room.

“Hey, if you want just us guys to do this--” Clyde began, but you cut him off.

“Don’t even think about saying what I think you’re going to say,” you told him, and for effect poked him quite hard in the chest. He flinched and reached a hand up to rub it, frowning at you. “I can take care of myself, and I have a gun. I shot it already. That’s more than you can all say, okay? So I’ll be fine. Let’s get to work.”

The rest of the time was spent in near silence; the only sounds that could be heard were the cracking of wood and the lugging of it out into the open air. You worked quietly the whole time, breaking off table legs and setting them aside, then passing off the larger pieces of wood to Stan. It was you and Clyde breaking the legs off and getting the desks ready, while Craig, Kyle, and Stan nailed them up outside. It might not seem like much, but it was hard work and you were sweating by the time it was done. You wished quite painfully that there was a working shower in the library. It was the only downside of this place.

“There,” Kyle said once the three boys trooped back inside. “All the downstairs windows are covered. The door is locked. We’re sealed in.”

Those words had such a serious finality to them. It made your mouth dry up and you had to work your tongue around to produce enough saliva to swallow again. “That’s good,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure that was the exact word you were looking for. “Safer.” That was a bit closer, but you still felt a depressing gloom settle inside of you at the thought of being stuck in here.

Silence settled over your ragtag group once more. It seemed like no one knew what to say, what to do next. Sounds floated out to your group from the kitchen, where Tweek and Ike were working at organizing the canned goods. Your eyes sought out Craig, and found that he had already been staring at you for who knows how long. A rush of feeling hit you, and it took you a moment to identify it: pleasure. You were happy he was looking at you with that deep, unreadable look. Even if you couldn’t figure out _why_ he was doing it, it still made you happy that he was. He was thinking of you without you even having to draw much attention to yourself.

“I’m tired,” Clyde announced. “I brought some blankets from my house, as did Stan. We have enough for one each, I think. I’m going to go take a nap.”

“Sure,” you all echoed together, watching as Clyde turned and walked up the stairs to the second floor. Unlike the basement stairs, these were out in the open and lead up to the very open air of the second floor. You watched him go until he disappeared, then turned your eyes back to Craig. Kyle didn’t even say anything when he wandered towards the back, to where his brother was in the kitchen. Again you were hit with the curiosity as to where his parents were; they probably weren’t out of town like almost everyone else’s. So where were they?

You had a feeling you weren’t quite ready to ask Kyle himself what had happened. You had a pooling of dread telling you that you wouldn’t like the answer, nor would the Broflovski boys want to relive it just yet. You’d ask later, when you felt more comfortable dredging it up in conversation. For now, you were left alone with Stan and Craig. Stan looked first at you, then at Craig, and then back. “I’m... yeah. I’m gonna follow Kyle,” he muttered and then booked it after his best friend. That left you alone with one Mr. Craig Tucker.

You stared at him for a moment, unsure what to say. What was there to say? _Hey, glad we’re both still alive and didn’t get our brains eaten. Don’t know how well we’ll fare tomorrow, but let’s hope just as good!_ Yeah, you weren’t sure if being so flippantly cheerful was going to help you, but you were also sure it would take a lot of energy to pull off and be lost on Craig. He wouldn’t end up appreciating it. Instead, you settled for remaining quiet and studying him as he seemed to mull things over. Finally, when you felt like this silence was going to undo you, you spoke up, “Thanks for going over to my house for me.”

Craig blinked and looked a little confused, as if he was coming out of a dense fog that he hadn’t realized had settled around him. “No problem,” he finally said a moment later, after thinking over what you just said and realizing what you meant. “I figured you’d want some clothes and other things from it. We probably won’t have another chance to go out again until we start to run low on food.” You nodded. He was right. If he hadn’t have gone to your house, you probably wouldn’t have had anything from it for a long time. You would end up appreciating him bringing you some clothes and necessities. It warmed you to think he had thought that far ahead about you, and cared about whether or not you’d be okay without your things.

A random thought from the previous few hours floated back to you. It seemed rather silly that you wanted to ask it now, after everything that had happened, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to let it go. You shuffled your feet a little, breaking eye contact with him and peering down at your shoes. “Craig,” you began and then cut yourself off, suddenly finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak. Craig grunted to let you know he was listening. “Why were you...” You trailed off and then shook your head. “No, never mind.”

“What?” He asked and his voice was back to its normal, nasally tone. He sounded rather apathetic, but there was an undercurrent there that you could just barely decipher. He was interested in what you wanted to ask. He wanted to know what you were thinking. You glanced up at him for a moment, frowning, and then sighed. This only seemed to make him even more curious.

“Why were you so interested in my love life earlier?” You asked quietly, studying his face as you did so. For a moment, he just stared at you and his mouth slowly dropped open. Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he snapped it closed and his eyes narrowed a bit in thought. He studied you quietly, thoughtfully as he tilted his head a bit to the side. His hat was a bit lopsided and you wished that you could just reach out and fix it for him, to settle it back rightfully on his messy head of hair, but you refrained. You had a feeling he would probably be startled out of his thought process if you touched him.

“We’re friends,” he said slowly, and the words seemed to be heavy coming from his lips. You ignored the slight twinge in your chest at the declaration. “I was just curious.”

“It was just curiosity?” You asked and tried to keep your disappointment from showing. Of course he was just wondering how you were doing, how your life was going. Did you have a serious boyfriend yet? Were you thinking you knew who you were going to settle down with after college? That was all. A friendly questioning about your future, nothing more. You hated it when you got your hopes up for nothing. They always ended up hurting all the worse when they were crushed.

“Y-yeah,” he said and his tongue darted out, licking his lips. You tore your gaze away and stared at the ground instead. It gave you an odd, fluttery feeling to watch him lick his lips, and you didn't want to think too hard on that. It would just stir up weird emotions that you weren't one hundred percent ready for yet. “Just... I was just curious.”

“I see.”

Silence reigned. Neither of you dared to speak for several moments, and you didn’t even chance a look up at him. You didn’t want to, didn’t feel strong enough. What if he saw the disappointment in your eyes? Sighing, you shook your head and pulled yourself out of this funk. You had other things to think about, to worry over, than this little crush on Craig.

 _Though I don’t think it’s so_ little _anymore,_ you told yourself quietly. You shook off your own thoughts as well. There were more pressing issues to attend to. You were feeling pretty tired yourself, so perhaps you should go take a nap upstairs like Clyde. You finally looked up at Craig to see him frowning at you, eyes dark with thoughts unsaid. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking about, but that would be stupid so you refrained.

“I’m going to go take a nap too,” you finally murmured. “Wake me up if you need me, or something happens, okay?”

“Sure,” Craig responded. You waited another heartbeat-- one that stretched out between the two of you, where you both held your gazes level with the other’s and _wished_ \-- and then it was over. You turned away and headed for the stairs, starting up them slowly and taking them one at a time. Craig moved behind you-- you could hear the rustle of his clothes-- and then he was walking towards the kitchen.

As you reached the second floor, you sighed and rolled your shoulders to loosen them up. You felt heavy, but you weren’t sure if it was from the events of the day or everything you had left unsaid with Craig. You were sure you’d never know; it wasn’t like you were ever going to admit to your feelings anyway.

Clyde had left out the blankets he had mentioned earlier, so you retrieved one and went to a corner of the room to lay down. Clyde was already snoring, and he was one aisle away from you so you could hear it clearly. Sighing one last time, you rolled yourself into a little ball and threw the blanket over your legs, trying to settle in and use your arms as a pillow.

Though rest did come to you eventually, it did not come easily for quite awhile.


	4. (four)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more normal you could act, the better. As soon as you both exited the kitchen, your eyes caught movement in the children section.
> 
> “Clyde, you finally found your grade level,” Craig said as you both walked up to him. Clyde was sitting down on the floor, flipping through a picture book. He tilted his head to glare up at the two of you.
> 
> “Ha ha, very funny,” he muttered.

Your dreams were not troubled, like you had thought they would be. Actually, they were quite pleasant and upon waking you found you didn’t want to leave the bubble sleep had surrounded you in. You wanted to stay under your blanket and stare up at the ceiling of the library forever, to never move again, because this was where peace was. Your mind was pleasantly blank, and you weren’t worrying about anything right now. You were just... floating in your consciousness and pretty happy with that.

Of course someone had to fuck it up.

There was a loud crash from downstairs, and you jolted upright in surprise. You couldn’t see down onto the main floor from where you had laid down, but you could hear someone chastising another. It sounded like it was Kyle telling his brother off for making the loud noise. Quickly, you scrambled to your feet and headed towards the stairs. You had all agreed much earlier that loud noises had to be avoided. You didn’t want unwanted attention on your little group. If you could avoid as much trouble as possible then that would be the most ideal situation.

“What happened?” You asked as you reached the first floor. It felt weird walking around in the library in your socks, since you had left your shoes upstairs. Kyle turned towards you as he heard you speak. He shook his head, sighing. You looked towards Ike next, and the overturned bookshelf. “How did that happen?”

“I knocked into it,” Ike muttered and looked away, either embarrassed or upset his brother had yelled at him. “Sorry.”

“Just don’t let it happen again, okay Ike?” Kyle said tiredly. He gave his brother one last stern look, before turning on his heels and walking away. Now that it was just you and Ike, you were at a loss for what to say or do. You had never really spoken with the youngest Broflovski boy, because he was just so much younger than you. Seven years was a long stretch in between you two, and it meant that you never had a reason to interact with him. Being thrown together like this though might make it so the two of you had to at least be on good terms.

“You okay?” You asked him when he brushed a hand harshly over his eyes. He glanced up at you with a small frown, then shrugged. “It was an accident. Don’t let it bother you, okay? We’re just all a little tense right now.”

“Yeah,” he replied and then sighed softly. “Okay.”

“Where’s everyone else?” You asked in your most pleasant voice. You didn’t want the boy to be frowning so fiercely. God, a thirteen-year-old kid shouldn’t have to be worrying about zombies right now! He should be looking at motorcycle magazines and crushing on random pretty girls, not this! He might have to shoot one soon, he might have to wield a gun or the bat or something and protect his own life. This was too much for you, and you were in college!

You glanced around as you waited for Ike to respond. He screwed up his face, thinking. It was eerily quiet right now, and normally that wouldn’t bother you but right now it was. It was too weird for everyone to be so silent. It made you feel like something was wrong. “Kyle and Craig are in the kitchen,” Ike told you. “Stan went upstairs an hour ago to sleep, and Clyde is still up there.”

Ah. That was why it was so quiet. You squinted your eyes up, trying to see the clock on the wall behind the librarian’s desk. It was getting dark now, and you could barely make out the time in the gloom of encroaching evening. “It’s already eight?” You said in surprise. You had went to sleep around two. “I didn’t mean to sleep for six hours.”

“Clyde’s been asleep longer,” Ike pointed out in what he probably thought was a helpful voice. You snorted. Clyde could sleep through anything, even this zombie shit. You had gone to sleepovers with him when you were all little, and he was a very heavy sleeper.

“Clyde will probably sleep until tomorrow,” you told Ike. “You want to go to the kitchen with me?” You asked as you began walking that way. You felt like it’d be rude to just walk away and leave the kid all to himself. You watched as Ike shook his head.

“I’m going to go find a book to read or something,” he told you and shifted restlessly on his feet. “There’s nothing else to do.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you told him and flashed a smile, before heading towards the kitchen. You tried to keep your footsteps quiet as you went. Peeking around the corner, you saw that Craig was seated at the small table in there, and Kyle was leaning back against the counter. They seemed to be discussing something in quiet, furtive voices.

“Do you think anyone else is okay out there?” Kyle was just now saying, and you furrowed your brows. You wanted to enter, but you were worried you’d distract them from their conversation. You didn’t want to eavesdrop though so you stepped inside the kitchen. Both heads turned towards you, and you flashed a tiny smile.

“I hope there are others out there that are okay,” you murmured.

“We didn’t see anyone earlier today when we were getting ready,” Craig pointed out. “Doubtful at this point.”

“Stay optimistic,” you told him, and he glanced at you quickly before looking away. A snort came oh-so-elegantly from him in response. “Come on, Craig. Give it a try. You might find that you like it.”

“Right,” he muttered and stared down at his hands clasped on top of the table. You seated yourself in the chair next to him and leaned out, grasping his hands and squeezing lightly. His body stiffened for a moment before he slowly seemed to loosen up again. He glanced up at you and quirked a brow. You didn’t answer his unspoken question, nor did you move your hands away from his.

“I know Kenny is out there,” Kyle murmured. Kenny was one of the few people who decided to stay behind in South Park and not pursue higher education. It wasn’t that he was stupid; it was that he wasn’t interested because he didn’t have the money. If he had been more serious about his classes, paid more attention during his schooldays, he might have been able to scrape together a scholarship, but hindsight is only 20/20 afterward. So poor Kenny McCormick was left behind and became a mechanic like people always used to tease him he would be someday.  
“Maybe next time we have to go out we can look for him?” You suggested. You hated to think that he was stuck out there, all by himself. Or that he was dead already. Kyle glanced at you and then shrugged. It was clear he knew that chances were becoming slim that he would still be alive. Wouldn’t they have heard from him already? Or maybe the phones weren’t working anymore, so even if he had tried to contact Kyle or Stan... well, it wouldn’t have worked by then.

“If it’s safe enough to do so, yeah,” Kyle agreed. “Otherwise we can’t risk too much for him.” His face showed the pain over admitting such a thing, but Kyle knew he had to be serious and mature. You all couldn’t go running out there on a suicide mission in hopes of saving a friend. You had no idea if he was still alive or not, and that meant that you all had to play it safe. There were loved ones out there that you would love to see again, but might never have the chance.

Silence falls once more between you three: heavy and awkward. You want to say something to draw their minds away from the situation at hand, but nothing is forthcoming. You’re not very good at this sort of thing. Relieving tension and awkward silences has just never been your cup of tea. So you sit there with them and stare at the wall across from you, and bit your lip hard as you attempt to figure out what more you can say.

By this point you realize your hands were still on Craig’s, and you wonder if you should move them away. They’d been there much too long to be normal. He doesn’t seem to be paying them much attention, instead staring at the wood of the table. You slowly begin to inch them away and back towards yourself, when he flips his hands over and grabs them. He holds them tight in his grasp and you glance up at him, surprised. He isn’t looking at you, but there’s a look on his face... you’re not quite sure how to take it. It’s like he doesn’t want you to let him go just yet.

So instead you weave your fingers through his own and you two sit like that, holding hands. It’s actually kind of nice. If the whole world wasn’t falling apart around your ears, perhaps you’d even get more delight out of it too. As it stands, Craig is probably only doing it for comfort, though you don’t mind. You’re starting to feel just a tiny bit better now that you’re both holding each other’s hands, and it’s not just you holding his.

“What did I miss?”

Clyde-- not one for realizing when situations are awkward-- walks in like there isn’t an extremely awkward silence hanging. He runs a hand through his messy, bedhead hair and looks around at each of you in turn. You twist so you can look at him before you speak, “Nothing.” The answer is honest. There is absolutely nothing going on. You’re pretty sure everyone is going to die of boredom before a zombie can even get into the library to attack all of you. There are plenty of books, sure, but no one has the attention span right now to read any. Except Ike. You suppose it runs in the Broflovski blood line or something.

“There haven’t been any more zombies?” Clyde pulls up a chair next to you.

“Even if there had been,” Craig replied dryly, “then you probably would have just slept through it.”

“Not my fault I’m a heavy sleeper,” Clyde said with a shrug. It was a very well known fact that Clyde could sleep through an explosion. He used to complain of the extreme ways his mother would attempt to wake him up in the mornings before high school. She had a particular glee in waking him up with a cold bucket of water. Clyde doesn’t seem to mind it so much though. Instead, he glances at Kyle, who is now the only one not sitting with the group and still leaning against the kitchen counters, then back at you and Craig. You don’t fail to notice that his eyes go to your and Craig’s hands, still clasped tightly together. “But, seriously, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Craig replied instead of you this time. Clyde shoots him a look with raised brows, before snickering. You feel like you’re lost somewhere in this conversation now, like there had been a joke uttered that you don’t get. You hate inside jokes.

“Right,” he responds, but he finally lets it drop. He glances at Kyle instead. “Your brother seems pretty restless.”

“Yeah,” Kyle replies, and for a moment you had forgotten he was still there. You twist to look at him to see he was deep in thought. “He’s a bit jumpy, after... you know. I don’t blame him. I’m on edge too.”

“After what?” Finally, you have a chance to ask him. You wanted to know, and you have an inkling it has to do with his parents. Kyle looks at you, then away, back at Clyde. He closes his eyes and sighs, and it sounds like all the worlds’ problems are on his shoulders with that one sound. You wait with baited breath, hoping he’d explain what had happened. After a few more moments of tense, weighted silence he opens his eyes again and looks at the three of you.

“We were eating together,” he finally says. “As a family. My mother insists that we all eat together whenever everyone is home together. We just go along so we don’t rock the boat. If you think I have a temper, my mother is something else.” He pauses here and a small, wistful smile comes to his lips. It’s like he’s remembering something fondly, as if his mother is... was... “We heard a crash in the backyard, and my dad went to go check. He was gone for maybe a minute before we heard a shout, and then another crash. My mother goes next, but I’m right behind her, with Ike bringing up the rear. We go outside and...” He breaks off, shaking his head. “They’re dead.”

It’s said with such finality. There’s pain there too, and he sets the cup down he’d been drinking from and retreats from the kitchen. He probably left to find his brother. If you had lost your whole family except one, you’d probably cling to them desperately to make sure they didn’t get taken away too. Silence falls once again. You don’t want to break it. It seems too flippant to break it after such an admission. Kyle’s parents... they died. They were gone now, probably turned into zombies too unless Kyle managed to find a way to take them down afterward. Or they just ran back inside and shut the door, before rushing to get what they needed and hurrying out. Had he gone to Stan on his own, or had Stan bumped into him? You wished you had a best friend like that, one you’d seek out when something horrible happens.

“Damn,” Clyde utters into the silence. It seems like the best thing to be said right about now. “Fucking _shit_ , man.”

Clyde gets up soon after that and exits the kitchen, leaving you and Craig to yourselves. It’s the first time you’ve been alone in quite a few hours, and you’re not sure what to say. What _does_ one say now that everything has settled in? It’s real; this whole thing, all this shit, it’s really happening and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Craig,” you begin. It seems that he was thinking along the same lines, because he utters your name too. You both look at each other, unsure who should go first.

“Go ahead,” Craig tells you. You bite your lower lip and ponder, before nodding.

“What do you think is going to happen now?” You know he has no answers, not any more than you do but it’s still nice to be able to talk with someone about this. You could both bounce ideas off of each other and share worries, comfort one another. You want to reach out and pull him into a hug, because _you_ need to feel human contact right now. You want to know you’re not all alone in this, and that Craig has your back.

“I don’t know,” Craig answers softly and his eyes come up to contact with yours. You want to ask him more about his family. He has to be as worried as you are for your own right now, but you’re quite sure it will be a touchy subject. You know it is for you, and you’re glad no one has pressed you for more details. Your cell phone didn’t seem to be working last time you messed around on it. The cell phone towers must be acting up or something.

“I wonder if the government is doing anything,” you whisper and look away, at the cabinets and the stack of canned food. Are they trying to save humanity, or is everything crumbling? You’re glad you’re not in a position of power. You’re having enough trouble figuring out what to do with just yourself and the group, let alone an entire country.

Craig just surveys you silently. You get the feeling he’s more lost in his thoughts and not all here, not really paying attention to you. “You okay?” You ask him. It’s a stupid question; of course he’s not. The whole world seems to be ending. You’re only holding yourself together by a few strings and even the smallest shove could push you over the edge. Craig stares at you blankly and you sigh. “Sorry, it’s a stupid question. I just felt like it needs to be asked.”

A one shoulder shrug is your only response, at least right away. You wait, knowing he would elaborate if you give him a chance. Craig usually takes awhile to figure out what he wants to say, if he even wants to say anything at all. He glances away from you-- at the wall to his left-- and then back. His hands come out and grab your own once more, and your heart gives a hard jerk in your chest. He still doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m worried,” he finally replied and his eyes finally come up to meet your own (e/c) ones. “I don’t know what’s going on out there.”

“Did you ever get a chance to try and call your parents?”

“Yeah,” he responded. “No one answered.”

“Maybe the lines are down?”

“I don’t think they were yet,” he told you. “I was able to leave a message. I tried again an hour ago, and nothing happened. Not even a dial tone.”

“I see.” There wasn’t much else you could say at the moment. It wasn’t like you could fix the phone lines. The most the rest of you could all do was sit around on your hands and wait for someone else to fix things. “I guess we’re going to be stuck here.”

“It’s a good thing you like books,” Craig said. You blinked and turned your gaze back to him, confused for a moment. Oh, he was making a joke. You had forgotten how much of a bookworm you used to be in high school. Your lips tilted upwards at the corners and you chuckled, nodding.

“I’ll have to get back into them,” you told him. You had stopped reading as much in college. Too much reading in classes. You never really had any time for it after you started your university, because you had to devote too much time to essays and such. “I stopped reading as much when I moved to Chicago.”

Silence resumed, but this time it was actually sort of comfortable. Neither of you tried to speak again. Craig seemed content to hold your hands in his own, his thumb rubbing idly over the skin of your palm. You wondered what everyone else was doing. Kyle was probably with his brother, and Clyde had wandered off. Maybe you should try to find something useful. Did the library ever have a radio? You remembered one from your youth, but maybe it had broken by now.

“Do you think there’s a radio here?” You asked Craig. The silence had gone on for almost ten minutes while you were lost in your own thoughts. Craig jerked, as if he had forgotten you were there, and turned to stare at you. He shrugged. Craig seemed to be in a shrugging mood today, though you didn’t blame him. “I guess I can go look for one.” You started to get to your feet, but Craig’s hands prevented you from standing fully. You looked at him and raised a brow. “Craig?”

“I’ll go with you,” he muttered as he clambered to his own feet. You stared at him with your mouth ajar. He stared right on back, quirking his own brow this time. “What?”

“You don’t have to--”

“I don’t have anything better to do.”

“I guess not, but--”

“Don’t want to spend time alone with me?”

“Quite obviously we already were,” you fired back and rolled your eyes, throwing your one free hand up into the air. “Fine, Craig! Come with me. I seriously don’t mind.”

Craig was the one to start moving first, and he didn’t even seem to mind you were still holding hands. He tugged you along behind him, and you sputtered indignantly as you trailed along after him. You weren’t actually upset, but you also figured it’d be nice to put on a show like you were. The more normal you could act, the better. As soon as you both exited the kitchen, your eyes caught movement in the children section.

“Clyde, you finally found your grade level,” Craig said as you both walked up to him. Clyde was sitting down on the floor, flipping through a picture book. He tilted his head to glare up at the two of you.

“Ha ha, very funny,” he muttered. “I just realized I haven’t read this book in ages, so I thought I’d give it a go. Nothing better to do.” He shrugged and turned his face back to the glossy pages. You snickered, then turned to walk over towards the librarian’s desk. Craig’s hand slowly fell from your own and went back to his own side. You tried to ignore the disappointment that clawed inside of you, instead focusing on the hunt for the radio.

First you began to dig around in the desk drawers. It was the most obvious place someone might have placed it if they didn’t use it anymore. There were miscellaneous papers and items inside of them, but no radio. You went to the cupboards behind the desk and opened each one in turn. There were books inside that hadn’t been filed yet, some returned books, and then finally you found the old radio! “Here it is,” you said as you dragged it from within the depths, setting it on the desk with pride.

Craig had leaned against the desk as he watched you search, but now he stepped forward. His fingers twitched the knobs a little to make sure they still moved, then bent to plug the device in. “Hopefully it works,” he said as he inserted the cord into the correct outlet. He stood back up just as you turned it on. A crackling sound emitted from it, and you beamed. You both high fived, pleased.

Kyle wandered over. “A radio?” He asked and reached forward to start tuning it. You allowed him, mostly because you were pretty bad at getting good stations. “This could really help us. Good job.”

Clyde and Ike gathered around, so that all of you could wait with baited breath. Finally, a station crackled into life and a voice filled the air. Kyle turned the volume down so it wouldn’t be too loud and you all listened intently. “Countless dead,” said a deep, male voice as if reading a news report. “Many more falling ill. Do not come out from within your homes. It is advised to barricade yourselves in and let only trusted loved ones inside.”

The man went on to list the countless cities that had been devastated. He even said that other countries were having the same things happening, that it wasn’t just the United States. Cell phones no longer worked, and no one knew the particulars of the sickness. No one could say how you got it or why, but that once you did you were screwed. You got sick, you had a day or two before you fell under it and died, then you came back as a zombie. Some didn’t rise again for hours afterwards, meaning even if you died and didn’t automatically come back that wasn’t to say you were safe from it. You were always encouraged to shoot a dead person in the head so that they wouldn’t rise again.

“No good news,” Clyde muttered. It was looking like nothing good was happening out there. “I don’t think we’re going to get helped any time soon.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think help will be sent to South Park, at least.” You bit your lower lip, thinking. “If we want to be saved, we might eventually have to head to a bigger city.”

“I don’t think it’d be safe,” Kyle inserted into the conversation. “To travel that amount of distance... it’d be like asking the zombies to pick us off one by one, or to flood us and kill us all at once.”

“We don’t have much else we can do,” Clyde grumbled. “We can’t just stay here and _hope_. That’s not how it’s gonna work.”

“I think it’d be best to wait,” Kyle snapped back. His eyes had narrowed. You frowned as you stared at him, worrying that a fight was brewing. It’d be best to avoid arguments for right now. You decided you might as well cut in and try to be the peaceful one.

“I think we should wait, at least for a little bit,” you said, trying to balance between the two opinions. “If it seems like there’s nothing else to do for it, we should travel. For now, we should wait and see if something happens.”

Clyde was glaring at Kyle, gritting his teeth, but slowly he relaxed. “Sure,” he said and nodded. “We can give that a try.” You sighed. One disaster averted.

Everyone went back to listening to the radio. Chairs were pulled up and you all lounged together around the librarian’s desk, talking quietly and listening to the man. He was giving his own opinions on what was going on out there, what this all might mean. It was nice to at least know you had one way to hear from the outside world. You wondered how this man was getting his information, or if most of it was old and he was just going over it again and again.

“Why do _you_ think this happened?” Clyde asked Kyle. He and Kyle had been speaking to each other about other things for awhile now, but it was clear Clyde had been wanting to ask this for awhile. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, studying Kyle. Kyle stared off into the distance, lost in thought.

“I’m not sure,” he finally murmured. “It could be anything, really. I never even thought this was possible until it started happening. Zombies shouldn’t be able to function. They shouldn’t even have been able to happen! So how is this happening? I have no idea. We’d have to have more information before I could say for sure.”

Clyde nodded. Silence finally fell, except for the soft murmur of the radio in the background. You were staring at the boarded windows towards the front, wondering what was going on with your family right now. Were they safe? Had they gotten somewhere where they could be protected? Or were they dead already, without you even knowing? You hated not knowing. You hated this helplessness. You had always hoped you would one day be able to stand on your own two feet, but now you were knocked over once more and left with nothing to do except wait. You hated waiting; it sucked the most out of everything!

“Anyone hungry?” You asked and pushed yourself to your feet. Everyone turned to stare at you. “Well, when was the last time any of us ate?”

“Not for.. quite a while,” Kyle said with dawning realization. Everyone had probably forgotten to keep up with it, which was what you had thought. You smiled a little and turned towards the kitchen.

“I’ll go whip something up for everyone,” you said, halfway because you wanted everyone to eat and also because it would take you away from your thoughts. While you cooked, at least you wouldn’t be worrying about everything. You could put your whole head into the actions needed to prepare a decent meal with the food provided. It wasn’t going to be great, but at least it wouldn’t be nothing. Having something in your belly was better than nothing.

“I’ll help,” Clyde said and trotted after you. You nodded and the two of you headed for the kitchen. The next few moments of silence was nice. You weren’t thinking about everything, and Clyde wasn’t getting in your way. He did as you asked and didn’t ask too many questions.

“How long do you think this food will last?” He asked when you were almost done making a meal. You glanced over at him, then at the food organized in the kitchen. You sighed and shook your head. Not as long as you all needed.

“A week, maybe,” you said. You all hadn’t had enough time to get food to last longer than that. No one had been thinking that far ahead. You all probably thought that you’d be saved before then. You surely hoped that was the case. “If we only eat twice a day, probably a week and a half.”

“So we’re going to have to go out there in a week, week and a half?”

You nodded. “Yup,” you said as lightly as you could manage. The thought made your heart squeeze. You didn’t want to go out there, to see what was going on. The silence that was coming from outside was worse than the one inside the library. You hadn’t had the guts to look out the windows on the second floor. You were scared of what you might see out there.

Clyde sighed. “I figured as much.”

“I’ll go tell everyone the food is ready,” you told him, mostly to get away from this depressing atmosphere. When you stepped outside of the kitchen, you found that Craig had been leaning against the wall, staring off into space. You tilted your head and peered up at him, startled. Twisting, he stared back down at you with a frown on his lips.

“Don’t worry about having to get more food,” Craig said. “You probably won’t have to go out.”

You furrowed your brows. “I’ll go out if I want to,” you told him and shook your head. “I’m not helpless. I refuse to be helpless. I want to go out there and help.”

Craig studied you quietly, eyes roving over your face. “I figured you’d say that,” he sighed out and then nodded. “Meal time?” You nodded, not sure how to take his previous statement. “Thanks.” He headed into the kitchen before you could say anything more. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts-- you couldn’t tell what he had meant by he had figured you’d say what you did-- you shook it off.

“Guys,” you said as you approached Ike and Kyle. “Time to eat. Where’s Tweek?”

“He went to sleep earlier,” Ike told you quietly. You had failed to notice he had disappeared quite some time ago. Nodding, you waited for the Broflovski brothers to walk in front of you, and then followed them back to the kitchen. After eating, maybe you should chance a peek outside the second floor windows. You were going to have to face the truth eventually. Better now, than putting it off and only doing it later because you were being forced.

You weren’t lying when you said you refused to be helpless.


	5. (five)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A letter from Tweek’s parents,” you murmured. Handing it over so Clyde can see too, he blinked in surprise as he read it. “They’re alive and looking for Tweek.”
> 
> “That’s good news!” Clyde said with a grin. “Tweek is gonna be excited.”
> 
> “It was dated five days ago,” Craig pointed out. Clyde’s smile slowly slipped from his face. They were obviously not here now. Where had they gone?

It didn’t matter how many times you counted and re-counted; it still remained the same: you were all running much too low on food. It had been a little over a week since you had all locked yourselves in the library. Hope had been running high that something good would happen before you all had to leave, but it looked like that wasn’t about to happen. A team would have to form together and go out to find more canned goods to eat. Maybe even some other things like medicine and such. You never know when you might need it, and it was good to have it on hand just in case.

“Who’s going to go?”

The question was posed as your group sat around the librarian’s desk. This was where most of you gathered to talk and sort things out. Kyle was now pretty much the leader, though it was clear you all didn’t have to follow him if you didn’t want to. It was better, though, to have someone who took charge and was ready for that responsibility. You were just glad it wasn’t you. Kyle was looking deep in thought at the question, which had been posed by Stan.

“I’ll go,” Clyde piped up. It was clear he had been getting more and more antsy to get out of the library, at least for a little while. Even if he had to go out where more and more zombies were roaming, it was better than being locked up all the time. He was starting to get a little stir crazy. You all didn’t open the second floor windows very often, in fear that it really was an air born bacteria that started this whole mess. It wouldn’t be good to catch it while you were all locked up together.

“S-should I--?” Tweek was about to ask, but you cut him off firmly.

“No, I’ll go before you can, Tweek,” you told him gently. You knew that Tweek wouldn’t do any good out there. Sooner or later you’d have to teach him how to aim and shoot the gun you carried, but you weren’t ready yet to put your twitchy friend on the line. He just wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. He didn’t have to go out there yet, so he might as well stay safe.

“If (Y/N) goes, then I go,” Craig said softly. You turned to face him, and then flashed him a soft, brief smile. He stared back at you blankly, before tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment. You wondered what this thing was-- this fluttery feeling-- that was developing between the two of you. All week it had been getting stronger, more difficult to hide. You were both forced to be around each other almost constantly, and it was starting to become difficult to not realize that things were changing. It seemed you weren’t the only one realizing, either, if how Craig was watching you more often was any indication.

“Alright,” Kyle finally said. “You three can go then.”

There were no arguments about it after that. The next fifteen minutes was spent getting ready. You went upstairs to grab your gun and make sure it was loaded, the safety on. Tweek followed along after you aimlessly. You had spent more time speaking with him than you ever had in the past. Obviously that was bound to happen, but you found you liked it. Tweek was easy to talk to, and very understanding. He didn’t hold anything against you when you admitted weaknesses. Actually, he seemed to look up to you more when you admitted to your fears and faults.

“A-are you sure I-I shouldn’t g-go?” Tweek asked softly. He looked almost guilty that he wasn’t on the party who was leaving soon. You turned to him with a small smile, reaching out and grasping his hands. He flushed and looked away, fidgeting. “I f-feel bad.”

“Don’t,” you told him and your voice brooked no room for argument. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, and you should stay here and be safe, okay?”

Tweek glanced at you, then away. “C-can I ask you a fa-fa-favor?” You blinked in surprise, tilting your head a little. You nodded to show that he could continue. “W-will you s-swing by the store? I want to k-know if my parents e-ever got b-back there o-okay.”

“Of course,” you told him and squeezed his hands, before releasing them. “I’ll do that for you, Tweek. Is there anything else you need?”

“If there’s some l-left,” Tweek said slowly, “c-could you bring me some instant co-coffee?” You flashed him a grin. You should have seen that one coming. Tweek had taken it the hardest when you had all been locked up in here. It had been too hectic when you first arrived to remember that you needed to bring coffee for the twitchy blond. He had been going through withdrawls this whole time.

“Sure!” You leaned forward and hugged him briefly, before pulling away and grabbing your jacket. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Hopefully with word from your parents, _and_ some coffee!” You raised your hand in farewell, then hurried down the stairs to the first floor. Craig and Clyde were already waiting for you.

“Ready to go?” Clyde asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He looked like he was about to burst from his skin any second now, he was so ready to be outside again. “We’ve been waiting five minutes, (Nickname), jeez. Let’s go!”

Clyde didn’t wait for you to give the go ahead. What an asshole; he was really antsy to get out there. You couldn’t really blame him though. You had been locked up in here for over a week too, and you were feeling the pull to get outside. The three of you snuck out, and then Kyle closed the door behind you. You were all left outside, listening to the quietly howling wind that blew past all of you and the eerie creaking of the farther off buildings. A low groaning could be heard just in the distance, telling you that zombies were moving in the streets.

“Where should we go?” Clyde asked. You almost face palmed. How could he not have thought to ask this while you were all still safely inside the library? He just _had_ to wait until you were out in the danger zone. You shot him a glare before responding.

“Maybe you should have asked that before we left, genius,” you snapped. Clyde actually managed to look a bit guilty about that and rubbed the back of his head. He muttered an apology, before you sighed and gave up. Anger wasn’t going to do you any good. You had to focus and work together to stay alive. You’d just yell at him about not thinking later. “There should be a general store one street that way,” you told him and pointed to the left. Clyde nodded, and then began walking in that direction, glancing around to make sure no zombies were around or had spotted your group.

You looked at Craig, to see he was watching you and obviously waiting for you to take the middle section. You nodded and began walking, allowing the dark haired male to take up the rear. The next ten minutes was spent darting from alley to alley, which were all thankfully clear of zombies. There had been a mess of bloody parts in one that freaked you out, but you had ignored it instead of getting squeamish. You didn’t feel like puking up your breakfast. You only got two meals a day, dammit.

“There,” you said when all three of you peeked around the corner of another alley. The general store was small and tucked away in the corner of the street. There were no signs of life, though a few zombies milled about on the side. “How are we going to get over there?”

Clyde glanced around. “Parkour?” He asked, only half joking. You looked up to see a fire escape leading up to the roof, and all the other roofs being about level. He was right; you could all easily hop from rooftop to rooftop, then find a way inside of the store once you reached it. You sighed and shook your head.

“Sometimes I wonder about you, Clyde,” you grumbled. Craig grunted as if to agree. Then you began scrambling up the fire escape to get to the top floor. Thankfully it was only two stories up, which wasn’t all that high. It was still freaking you out a little though. What if you dropped? Oh god, the zombies would probably reach you before your friends could. That would be a way to die. Eaten by zombies because you fail at parkour. Great.

When you reached the top, you waited patiently for Craig and Clyde to get there before moving towards the edge. The wind picked up the ends of your hair and tousled it around your face, making you smooth your hands over it in annoyance. You were starting to regret the fact that you had no scissors so you could at least give it a trim. You’d have to see if any of the places you were bound to peek in on had some so you could hopefully do that later tonight. Also, shampoo and conditioner. You needed some, desperately. This washing yourself in the sink was starting to get old. You were all running out of soap.

“You go first,” Craig grunted at Clyde. Clyde turned to him with a pitiful look, but it was apparent the other boy showed no pity. “It was your idea,” he pointed out logically, or what he thought was somewhat logical. You actually agreed with Craig on this one; Clyde suggested it, he had to be the first one to do it.

With a huff, Clyde turned towards the other rooftop. “Whatever,” he muttered and then took a leap of faith, literally. He landed on the next rooftop a little heavier than expected, an ‘oof’ emitting from between his lips. You flinched and glanced at the street again, to see if any of the zombies had heard. None of them seemed to realize you were there, thankfully, so you jumped next. At least your landing was more graceful than Clyde’s.

Craig’s jump was uneventful, as were the next ten or so until you reached the top of the general store. “How are we going to get in?” You asked. None of you had brought rope, so lowering someone to the ground was out of the question. You glanced around and spotted a small door in the roof, which probably led to the attic. “Oh, hallelujah!” You whispered and walked in that direction, Clyde and Craig hot on your heels.

“Is it open?” Craig asked as soon as you reached it, bending down and plucking up the little handle that would open it. You gave it a firm tug, and found that it came up easily from the roof. You nodded and Craig grunted. “Good. At least that’s one hard part down.” You found you agreed. This made things a lot easier than they would have been before.

Stairs led down into a dark, dismal attic. You found that old habits died hard, and your fear of spiders manifested itself. “Clyde goes first,” you said. Clyde chuckled softly and shook his head.

“No way; you suggested this place. Come on, don’t be scared of black widows now, (Y/N),” he teased lightly. You leveled a glare on him and then huffed. He knew you hated spiders, and still he was sending you into this great unknown. You were about to climb down the ladder into the dark abyss when a hand was placed on your shoulder. Turning, you found Craig was staring at you levelly.

“I’ll go,” he told you and he gently moved you aside, allowing him to take the ladder down and quietly wander away. You shared a glance with Clyde, who shrugged. Craig wasn’t one to just volunteer unless forced. It was a little odd he didn’t mind doing this for you. You weren’t going to question it though. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? You both had to wait there for several minutes, hoping Craig found a safe entrance into the store itself. Finally he wandered back and motioned for you both to follow.

He had managed to move away a floor board so he could jump down on top of the soda machine. After that, you could all hop down to the floor. It looked like most of the shelves were ransacked. Anything of real worth might be gone already, and the trip to this place was a bust. You sighed as Craig assisted you down off the soda machine, his hands on your hips and guiding your feet to the floor. You ignored the sensation of electricity that shot up your spine from the contact; nothing good would come on dwelling upon it, it would just make things more awkward.

“Looks like it’s mostly empty,” you pointed out quietly. Thankfully the windows were still intact and no zombies seemed to be present. You could hear them outside, but nothing from within. At least that was a good sign. You still didn’t like that huge window in the front though; it was freaking you out that a zombie might peer in and see your small group. The sooner you all got out of here, the better.

“We should still search,” Craig murmured. You nodded your agreement, and then the three of you went to work. You looked under the shelves in hopes of finding something long forgotten, only to come away with three things of girly deodorant and one male one. Well, that was still something, and you tucked it safely away in the backpack you had on you. More searching found one thing of tylenol, a cold and flu bottle of medicine, some diet bars, and even a few cans of soup and beans. It was still more than you had before coming here, so you weren’t going to grumble over anything you could get.

“Let’s look in the back,” Clyde said after you all scoured the room. Clyde had found some soap-- yes!-- and Craig had even found a blanket and some bandages. So this trip wasn’t a complete bust, at least. You all went to the back room’s door and slowly opened it, peeking inside. There was no sign of any bodies-- alive or otherwise-- which meant that it was okay to wander around in here carefully. A more thorough search in here found some pens, a bottle of hand sanitizer, more bandages hidden in a desk drawer, and some batteries.

“Hey,” Clyde called from a corner of the office. You and Craig glanced over to see him staring hard at the floor by the second desk. You hadn’t even wandered over there yet. Going over there now, you found what Clyde was staring so hard at: blood. Lots of it. It was strewn across the lower half of the wall, and all across the floor, then it appeared as if the body it had come from was dragged towards the back door.

“Shit,” you muttered, at the same time Craig did too. Someone had been attacked here, then disposed of. “I say we leave now,” you murmured. You felt a prickly sensation on the back of your neck, though you were sure it was just from paranoia. “Let’s go to Tweak Bros and see if we can find something there. Tweek asked that we swing by if we’re able to.”

The other two nodded their agreement. Neither of them seemed at all happy with seeing that blood on the floor. It meant someone was out there attacking people, someone who wasn’t a zombie but an actual person. You realized this might be the end of the world and that there would be people who would want to do your harm to get to the stuff you had, but... somehow you hadn’t really accepted it as real. This made it very, very real now.

“Sure,” Craig and Clyde said together, tearing their eyes off of the blood. You all headed back to the soda machine, and Craig managed to boost himself up there with a little help from Clyde. He then helped you and Clyde up and you all moved towards the stairs to the roof. You wondered who had been attacked and what had happened. What had forced someone to think they had to kill another person? Was it the person who owned this store who had been attacked? To lose that much blood surely meant they had died...

Ugh, stop thinking about it!

“Do you think we should stop by the grocery store that’s on the way?” Clyde asked twenty minutes later. The three of you are almost to Tweak Bros, and he brought it up because you’re at the intersection that would lead you either to Tweek’s parents’ coffee shop, or the store. You shake your head. It was much too risky, not to mention that other people have probably already ransacked it. If the small general store was drained, then the larger grocery store probably was too.

“Too risky,” you told him quietly as the three of you set off towards the coffee shop again. “Others probably went there first. Not to mention someone might have set up their camp there? Obviously someone is attacking other survivors. I’d rather not run into them.”

“Agreed,” Craig chimed in with. You glanced at him and smiled, reassured that he was thinking the same thing. It was nice to have someone who agreed with you. You looked to Clyde to see him looking off in the direction of the grocery, before heaving a sigh and nodding in agreement. He knew that you two were right. It would be too dangerous to go all the way over there for a little bit of food.

It wasn’t hard to get to Tweak Bros. That itself set your nerves on edge; shouldn’t there be more zombies? Maybe they weren’t very active in the morning? You did always notice more of them at sunset and sunrise, then the middle of the day. They were probably most active at night. The front door of the shop was locked, but the back door had a key hidden in the light next to it. Craig grabbed said key and unlocked the door, so that the three of you could shuffle quickly inside the dark backroom.

It appeared nothing had been touched. No one had thought to come here to get supplies. Tweek had said there was some canned food in the far rear office, because his parents were paranoid like him. They prepared for this kind of shit. Clyde went quickly there to start piling up the resources in his bag, while you searched through the rest of the store. Carefully, you pushed open the door that would lead you to the front and glanced warily around. Nothing moved or hinted at danger, so you walked further in.

Tweek had practically begged you to look for any coffee might be around. Luckily for him, there was quite a bit of the instant stuff. You couldn’t sneak him back a coffee machine, but the instant shit should tide him over for awhile. It would be like his birthday come early to Tweek. He hadn’t had any coffee in two weeks, not since he ran out of the small canister of instant he had brought initially. You slid the two huge things of instant coffee into your pack, then went about looking for more supplies. There was some dried out fruit snacks and even some beef jerky for some reason, all stacked neatly behind the counter for future purchases.

After you had packed the last of the fruit in your bag, your eye caught the fluttering of paper on the counter as Craig exited the backroom. You turned fully to look at it as it fell to the ground, brows furrowed. When you had all been here last, that had definitely not been a fixture. Obviously someone else had placed it there for some unknown reason. “Craig,” you said and pointed at it. “What’s that?”

He stopped walking towards you and instead turned his gaze to the paper on the ground. Stooping, he plucked it up and read it quickly. His lips pressed together and he furrowed his own brows now. “Here,” he said as he walked over to stand next to you. You stood as well, so you wouldn’t feel like he was looming over you, and wiped your hands off on your jeans from the dust of the floor. Taking it, you read it over just as hurriedly as he had.

“What’s that?” Clyde asked as he walked out from the back. His bag was loaded down with cans and it appeared as if the weight might break it if you weren’t careful. Craig’s bag also appeared to have more cans in it now than before. At least this food might last another week or two before you’d all have to go back out again. That was better than initially planned.

“A letter from Tweek’s parents,” you murmured. Handing it over so Clyde can see too, he blinked in surprise as he read it. “They’re alive and looking for Tweek.”

“That’s good news!” Clyde said with a grin. “Tweek is gonna be excited.”

“It was dated five days ago,” Craig pointed out. Clyde’s smile slowly slipped from his face. They were obviously not here now. Where had they gone?

“They’re probably at their actual house a few blocks over,” Clyde mumbled. He too looked a little anxious. What if they were dead already? You didn't want to give that letter to Tweek, only to have his hopes be later crushed. But then again you couldn’t keep it from him either. He had to know there was a chance, that there was some hope left out there. “Should we...?” You knew what he was going to say.

“No,” you quickly cut him off and shook your head. “We should bring the letter back to Tweek and let him decide. For now, let’s try to get a little more food before we head back. Every bit counts.” Both Clyde and Craig nodded, agreeing. It would be Tweek’s decision once he got the letter if he wanted to pursue his parents, regardless of the dangers involved with that. You were sure you already knew what he would choose.

“Stan said we can go to his house,” Craig piped up. You looked at him for a moment, chewing on your lower lip. “He and Clyde didn’t get that much food last time we went.”

“I might as well swing by my place too,” you piped up. You had been wanting to go there, see if there were any messages from your parents. Though the electricity was out, the answering machine ran on batteries. Maybe it was still alive and still had something in it, or maybe it was dead and you weren’t going to hear from your parents again. If they were still alive, they would have headed back by now, right? They had never been able to call you back before all cell reception had gone out.

“Alright,” Clyde said and tried to sound as cheerful as possible. “We’ll go to Stan’s, and your place, (Y/N). Then we can head back to safety.” Craig and you nodded in agreement.

After double checking that you got everything, the three of you departed through the back door. The front door wasn’t safe, and you weren’t chancing a face-to-face meeting with a zombie. So far you’d all been lucky not to run into one, but you were sure your luck would run out if you tried to test it too much. It wasn’t too far to get to Stan’s house, and therefore your house was pretty close by too. You stuck to back alleys and streets not used very often, dodging around zombies by taking paths that weren’t littered with them.

It was when you reached the only street-- with no alleys-- that your luck actually ran out. “It’s infested with zombies!” Clyde hissed. You were peeking around a fence at the very end of the block, looking towards Stan’s place. “Should we skip it?”

“We already made it this far,” you said softly, trying to weigh the pros and cons. “What if we dart through backyards? Think that would get us there?”

Silence ensued for a few moments as both boys thought it over. “That could work,” Craig muttered. “Come on.” He then proceeded to boost you up to peek over the top of the fence you were by. You told him it was clear and then threw a leg over, falling down onto the other side. Clyde and Craig were quick to follow after you. The next few yards were also clear, though one had a suspicious red stain near where you landed. You decided not to question it and instead kept moving. If you kept moving, it was less likely you would be spotted. Never stay in one place too long and all that jazz.

Of course, as mentioned earlier, your luck had run out.

It was when you were passing through the last backyard until you reached Stan’s that a hand reached out and grabbed your ankle. You managed not to cry out in surprise, though every instinct told you to, and instead attempted to roll away from the contact. The hand was deathly cold and slimy, making you shiver from the contact, and you twisted to look at who was holding you. A zombie was crawling out of the shed you had been passing by, its legs decimated so that it had to use its free hand to crawl forward.

You attempted to jerk your ankle out of its grip, but to no avail. You glanced fearfully around for a rock of some kind to bash its head in. You didn’t have your gun today; you had left it with Kyle to protect the library, while Craig and Clyde both had the other two. “We can’t use a gun,” Clyde hissed from behind you. Glancing back as you struggled, you found Craig had raised his own to shoot the zombie. “Too loud! We’ll have a whole hoard on us.”

Craig shot Clyde a nasty glare, then took the baseball bat from the strap that tied it to his backpack. “Fine,” he grunted and moved forward. “Close your eyes,” he ordered and you did so. A sickening thunk sounded as he slammed it into the zombie’s head. A few more followed and a wet gurgling could be heard. Oh, gross...

“There,” Craig said and grasped you by one arm, while Clyde grabbed hold of the other. They both heaved you to your feet and you staggered, swaying. You felt a little light headed from being so close to being zombie food. Ugh. You didn’t dare chance a glance at the zombie. Craig had a little blood splatter on his shirt, but otherwise seemed fine. “Let’s go,” he said. None of you had time to be concerned, not right now in the middle of all of this. Craig placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you in the direction of Stan’s house. “Almost there.”

You remained quiet the rest of the way until you were in Stan’s house. To admit you were shaken up was an understatement. You had never been grabbed by a zombie before, and to know that you had been that close to death? It was unsettling. If Clyde and Craig hadn’t thought a step further, if Clyde hadn’t mentioned not to use the gun, more zombies could have come and overpowered all three of you. You all could have been dead right now. Thankfully Clyde thought more than he let on though. You’d have to thank him later.

“Let’s check the pantry,” Clyde grunted, heading in the direction of the kitchen. “Stan and I only had enough time to get a little bit of food last time. His dad stocked up on a lot of canned goods. As long as it’s still here, we should be good.”

“We should hide the rest for later,” you pointed out. “If someone else comes in here, at least they can’t find the stuff if we pick a good spot. Then if we need to come back for more later, ‘cause we can’t take it all... well, it’ll be here.” Clyde looked at you as if you were a genius. His mouth dropped open and for a moment you thought he might drop to his feet and worship you.

“Good idea,” he whispered and a grin brightened his features. It was so out of place because of what you were all dealing with out here, that it startled you into silence as you peered at him. “Nice thinking, (Y/N)! If I wasn’t in love with Bebe, I’d totally ask you to be my girl.” He oofed as Craig punched him in the gut, chuckling under his breath. “I’m just kidding, Craigy. I know how sweet you are on--” Another punch silenced him. Your brows furrowed. Wait, what?

“Let’s get a move on,” Craig growled as he glared at Clyde. “And keep certain thoughts to ourselves?”

You stared after Craig as he stalked off further into the house, intent on finding other things that could help your group. For a moment you debated following him; obviously that had been about _something_ though you weren’t sure what. Did you really want to dig deeper? You wavered for a moment, biting your lower lip. It wasn’t like things were how they used to be. It was obvious Craig felt something for you, though what that something _was_ you weren’t sure yet. You could follow him, see what that had been about, or...

“I’m going to search the kitchen,” Clyde said and you glanced over to find him waggling his brows at you. “Maybe you should chase after him?”

“Sure,” you replied, and then did what you had been debating this whole time: you followed Craig. He wasn’t in the living room, and you could hear something shuffling around upstairs. Glancing around in the other two rooms downstairs in the front, you found he wasn’t there either. He must have gone upstairs then. Taking the stairs carefully to make as little noise as possible, you reached the second landing and headed down the hall. Craig was found in Stan’s room, grabbing two more blankets and folding them up tightly to put in his secondary backpack.

“Hey,” you greeted as you leaned against the doorframe. Craig’s back tensed, and you watched the muscles move there. For a wild moment you wished you could reach out and trace your fingers down his spine, feel his body move underneath his skin, but then you shut down that feeling. You didn’t need to be getting distracted by your more... sexual fantasies. Not right now. “You okay?”

Craig’s gaze was unwavering on your face. You almost felt like he could read your mind or something, which was... unsettling. You shifted on your feet, smoothing your hands over your pants to get the sweat off of your palms. You were suddenly nervous and had no idea why. You thought you were over these sorts of feelings; getting jittery around Craig and feeling nervous wasn’t something you’d had roiling inside of you for a while now. The two of you had settled into an odd, calm, comforting sort of friendship that bordered on... what? What did it border on? You had no idea at this point.

He turned around fully to face you. The two of you remained like that, quiet and thoughtful, as you peered at each other. “Well?” You asked when it was apparent he wasn’t making a move to answer you. He slowly got to his feet, and for some reason that sent a bolt through your system. The look he was giving you... he stepped forward until he was right in front of you and you tilted your head to make sure to maintain eye contact. He was taller than you, a lot taller than you had ever noticed. You barely reached his shoulders; when had he suddenly shot up so much? It must have been during high school, but...

“(Y/N),” he breathed and you were drawn back out of your thoughts once more. His hand came up and hovered-- so close, yet so far-- right by your cheek. It was like he wanted to touch you, but he was scared. What could he possibly be scared of? It was just you. You had both been friends since your youth, there was nothing to be scared about when it came to your friendship. Or... was it something else now? Was it changing and morphing in front of your very eyes to something brand new?

His hand touched your cheek, his fingers tracing gentle patterns over your skin. His breathing was a bit louder now, and his eyes traced over your face. You allowed yourself to do that as well, your gaze dipping to his lips before shooting back to his eyes once more. “Craig,” you murmured and your brain was **screaming at you**. _Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, do it, he wants it, he wants you to kiss him, he wants to kiss you, just DO IT--_ You leaned up on your tiptoes, intent on fulfilling this impulse, your eyes softly falling shut.

\-- and then Clyde blundered into the room and made you both shoot apart.

To say the next few seconds was awkward was a _huge_ understatement. Clyde stood in the doorway, looking first at Craig and then at you. Craig was staring intently at you, while you looked anywhere but at the two boys. You took in a deep breath, attempting to settle your nerves. It’s okay. It’s fine. You just attempted to kiss your long time crush, and it looked as if he was going to let you. More than _let_ you, he wanted it, wanted you to make the distance between you disappear and place your lips on his own and--

Oh god. Oh god. You had to stop thinking about this. Your face felt a bit hotter than normal, and you weren’t going to be able to act natural around them if you were still focused on the almost kiss. You finally jerked your gaze back over and looked first at Craig, then at Clyde. “Yes, Clyde?” You asked in a very level voice, though it was a tad breathless.

“I’m...” He trailed off and looked between you both again, a smirk on his lips. “I’m done now, if you two are...?”

Craig grunted and you nodded. “Yeah,” you finally said when Clyde made no move to speak again. “We’re good. Ready to head out?”

“We can go to your house, (Y/N), if that’s what you want?” You glanced at your bag, then Clyde’s and Craig’s. Both of the boys are now carrying two backpacks, while you still have your one now bulging one. You shake your head.

“Let’s head back,” you tell him. “I think we’ve pushed our luck enough for one trip, and we have enough food to last us at least another week. Let’s go back.” Both boys nod, and then all three of you exit the room and head back downstairs. Not much is said on the way back; you’re not sure what _to_ say, and Craig seems lost in thought. Clyde is the only one paying one hundred percent attention to his surroundings. It’s probably because of him that you all get back with little to no incident. There was a moment where a zombie almost stumbled upon you three hiding, but Clyde maneuvered fast and you got away unscathed.

You could see the library up ahead, and relief was starting to wash through your system. “It’s not always going to be like this,” Craig muttered from behind you. You glance over your shoulder at him, furrowing your brows. He glances up at you, and then away. “Eventually something fucked up is going to happen.”

Your stomach drops and knots itself into twists as you think about what Craig said. He was right. You weren’t so naive to think that your luck would last forever. Eventually... someone was going to get hurt, maybe even you or Craig. Someone was going to die. People were going to separate from the group and leave on their own. Hell, maybe someday you would eventually decide to do that yourself. You never know at this point. Right now everything is fine, but... sooner or later, something was going to start to crack and fracture, then to break completely.

“Let’s focus on the now,” Clyde said, dragging your thoughts away from misery and depression. “Right now we’re all fine, happy, and about to be fed. That’s good enough for me.”

You cracked a smile. “Yeah,” you piped up, agreeing. You glanced at Craig again and flashed him a bright, mostly false smile. “Don’t be a Debby Downer, Craigy!” The nickname slipped off your tongue before you could catch it. You hadn’t called him that since middle school. By the look he was giving you, he was remembering just that bit of information too. A small smile twisted the edge of his lips upwards and made you feel all fluttery. Damn this crush!

Clyde reached the library door first and did the secret knock to signal someone to let you all in. A few moments later, Tweek was the one pulling the doors open and peeking out. “Hey, Tweek,” Clyde greeted as he slid inside. You followed, with Craig bringing up the rear. “We got some goodies for everyone. Excited?”

Tweek blinked at Clyde, then glanced towards you and Craig. Craig placed a hand on his shoulder before moving towards the kitchen. You were the only one to flash him a genuine smile. “I got you something,” you told him as you reached into your pack and brought out the two things of instant coffee. Handing them over, it was like Christmas time had come early for Tweek this year. His whole face lit up and he beamed.

“Thanks!” He told you, and he didn’t even stutter. You leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for you, Tweekers!” You told him, still grinning. He blushed and flashed a small smile back at you, clutching the coffee to his chest. “Come on, let’s go upstairs. I wanna show you something important, okay?” Tweek nodded, though the smile was starting to fade and worry was evident in his eyes. You both headed towards the stairs, leaving Clyde and Craig to explain to the others what you all hauled back. You set your pack next to Craig’s foot, catching his eye for a moment and seeming to communicate your intentions. You patted your pocket-- where the note from Tweek’s dad was-- and then turned to head up the stairs with Tweek following.

“I found this,” you told him when you both reached the second floor. You positioned yourself near the windows, farthest away from the stairs so that no one could listen in. Handing over the note, Tweek snatched it from you and began to scan over the words. You took this time to glance outside and into the gloomy world beyond, noticing the zombies in the distance. They moved sluggishly, dragging their feet and occasionally bumping into another zombie. If the window was open, you would probably be able to hear the low hum of groans in the distance. They emitted the weirdest noises from deep within and it really creeped you out.

Tweek clenched his fists in the paper, and the sound of it crumpling brought you back to your surroundings. Turning, you found him gazing out the window too, his eyes bright but hope there for the first time in days. “Tweek?” You murmured. He turned his bright hazel gaze onto you and a small smile twitched at his lips.

“They might... they really might still be...” He trailed off. He probably didn’t want to jinx it by saying it aloud. “Thank you,” he told you finally. “For bringing this back.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I... I don’t k-know,” he whispered. “I want t-to find t-them b-but I can’t j-just go waltzing o-o-out there and do it a-alone.”

“Think it over,” you told him. “Maybe you should bring it up when the others gather around the radio later.” Every night, your group of survivors gathered together every night to listen to the radio. Some nights there were broadcasts from other survivors, but mostly there was just static. You were sure the static was the most haunting sound, even more so than the stories other survivors told of gruesome death.

Tweek nodded. You were right. He should think it over, then bring it up to the others. Who knows? They might be willing to offer some assistance or help. Tweek didn’t necessarily have to do this alone. “Okay,” he told you.

“Come on,” you said. “I’m sure they’re making something to eat downstairs. I don’t know about you, but _I’m_ famished.” You bounced over towards the steps, glancing at him over your shoulder.

Tweek stood there for several more moments, staring down at the crumpled paper in his hands. You didn’t rush him; you waited patiently for him to decide on his own to follow. “Yeah,” he murmured and then folded it up, sliding it into the pocket of his own jeans. “I’m hungry too.”

The two of you walked calmly back down the stairs to the first floor, then over towards the kitchen. The low hum of voices could be heard within before you even reached the door. Everyone was gathered around the food, organizing it and discussing how long it might last. “A week, at least,” Clyde was saying. Kyle nodded beside him.

“It’s a good haul,” he said. “Thanks for risking your neck to get it, all three of you.” He looked at each of you as he said this, and you nodded your head when his eyes landed on you. Clyde shifted, tilting his face to peer at Kyle this time instead of the food. He looked pretty serious. Wonder what was on his mind? You were sure you’d find out soon. Clyde wasn’t one to keep things to himself.

“I think we should start looking for other survivors.” The words hung in the air-- heavy with meaning-- and all eyes turned towards Clyde and Kyle now. Even Ike, who had been seated at the counter reading a book, folded it and turned to peer at his brother. It was a debate they’d been having for the last four days: should you start looking for other living humans? Kyle said it was too dangerous. Those other people might end up hurting the group or taking more supplies from your group then they brought in. It was just too risky. Clyde was on the boat of helping anyone who he could reach.

“Clyde, we’ve talked about this,” Kyle sighed and shook his head.

“Yeah, dude,” Stan piped up. “One: it’s risky enough to go out there. Looking for other people? They’re laying low too. What if they’re dangerous? What if they try to kill us before we get too close? They might assume we’re infected already and a threat if we get too close.”

Clyde shook his head. “I still think we should try!”

Tweek was standing next to you, fidgeting and rubbing his hands against his jeans. You watched him as he opened and closed his mouth. Maybe he was going to mention his parents note? He looked at you, his eyes confused, and you shrugged. He might as well. Now or never. “I--” He cut himself off and sighed. He had spoken too softly. No one had even notice he had spoken. “I-I have a n-note from my dad--nngh!” He twitched a little, almost like the old days. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder to show him you were there, offering him support. All eyes were now on him. “I really want to l-l-look for my pa-parents.”

Kyle frowned, and Clyde furrowed his brows. Craig looked neutral, while Ike and Stan both appeared to be curious. To know there were other survivors-- not just debate on it-- was a hopeful thing in and of itself. “I don’t know...” Kyle said, biting his lower lip. “I know it’s your parents, Tweek...”

“P-please.” Tweek gave Kyle a pleading look. Kyle glanced away, looking at the ground. His red brows were furrowed as he thought it over.

“It’s too dangerous. I think we should try to do as little as possible. Going out to get supplies is one thing, but to actually seek out trouble?” Kyle shook his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I-I’ll go alone, t-then.” Tweek sounded firm, but you could see the panic in his eyes. He hadn’t expected to meet resistance, probably. Maybe a little worry, but not Kyle outright saying it was too dangerous. You frowned harshly and bit your lower lip, coming to a rapid decision.

“I’ll go with,” you told him, and then looked around at everyone else. “We can’t just let him go by himself, and these are his parents. I know if I thought my parents were alive, I’d want to seek them out. I’m going with.”

Craig’s eyes met yours levelly and he nodded. “Same.” You had figured you could count on him. Craig and Tweek were best friends. There was no way that he’d just let Tweek waltz out of here on his own and into danger. You were the same; you’d go along and try to protect him as best as you could. You gazed at the others. Kyle was looking torn, but then shook his head. He would remain with his original decision.

“Count me in,” Stan piped up. It startled everyone, and all eyes turned towards him. Clyde thumped his hand down on the counter.

“Don’t outdo me! I’m going too!”

“Guys,” Kyle began but you cut him off.

“We’ll be careful,” you told him. “But we have to do this. Okay?”

Kyle gazed at you before sighing and nodding. “Alright,” he said. “You can go whenever you feel ready.” All eyes turned towards Tweek to decide. He bit his bottom lip, his body shaking and his hands fluttering in front of him as he tried to find something to hold onto. Finally he settled on grasping the hem of his shirt and twisting it between his long fingers.

“Tomorrow,” was his response after a few minutes of thought. “We can go tomorrow.”

“Okay!” You clapped your hands together and startled everyone out of their own thoughts. “Let’s get something ready to eat. I’m starving!” You grinned at Ike and nudged his chair. “Come on, you can help. That’s the third time you’ve read that book, Ike.”

Ike twisted his lips up into a soft, small smile and nodded. He hopped to his own feet and you both got to work putting together something simple. The rest of the night passed by without further incident, though occasionally you did see Kyle glancing worriedly at the four who had volunteered to go. You knew he didn’t agree, but you also realized that he would let you do it. He understood.

If Kyle’s parents were still alive and out there, he’d risk a lot to get them back too.

You attempted to alleviate the tension, but that night most of your jokes fell flat. Eventually you fell silent. There wasn’t much else you could do now; everyone was lost in their own thoughts. You headed up stairs and sat in the window seat, peering out into the darkness that had fallen. Eventually you’d head to bed and dream of the time before all the shit hit the fan, back in high school when things were simple and the most you had to worry about was your stupid crush on Craig Tucker.


	6. (six)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Make sure to take all the precautions you need to,” he told your group. “I don’t want any of you to get hurt out there.”
> 
> “We know, _mom_ ,” Clyde joked and grinned at him when Kyle shot him a look. “We’ll be careful, we’ll come back in one piece, or else you can kick my ass later. Okay?” Kyle nodded. “Good. Now let’s go. Tweek looks like he’s about to vibrate right out of his skin if we don’t get a move on.”

For some reason, this felt like the beginning of the end.

You were only going to check for signs of Tweek’s parents. There really shouldn’t be anything more sinister going on than that, but still dread curled in the pit of your stomach. You just felt like something was going to happen that would change everything. Nothing would be the same after today. You peered out the second floor windows of the library, staring into the distance but not really seeing anything. Your mind was on other things, worry digging itself into marrow of your bones and clinging there, refusing to be erased completely.

You should have been feeling these things the day the zombie outbreak happened. Why was it just catching up to you now? You wrapped your arms around yourself and rubbed harshly at your prickling skin, trying to get the strange feelings to leave your head. “Hey,” a voice said from behind you, startling you out of your pensive state of mind. “You okay?”

Twisting, your eyes landed on Craig studying you. It was the early morning and you had trudged back upstairs to wait for everyone to get ready. You’d be leaving soon; probably in another twenty minutes you’d be walking out of this library. It sent your stomach into a strange dance of anticipation and horror. Something weird was going on. You had been the first one ready out of everyone, so you had headed back upstairs to get away from the others. You had wanted to be alone with your strange thoughts and try to figure them out, figure out the cause for them.

“Yeah,” you finally forced out. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You don’t look fine.” Craig came to stand next to you at the window on the second floor, peering at you instead of the scenery outside. You can’t stand to keep your eyes connected, so you glanced back out once more. You shook your head, infinitesimally. “You look like something’s on your mind, something unpleasant.”

“Nothing unpleasant is on my mind.” You paused, seeming to think it over for a moment, before continuing, “Well, nothing that hasn’t been on it since this whole thing started anyway.”

“You keep forgetting we’ve been friends since we were kids,” he told you on the end of a sigh. You glanced back at him from the corner of your eyes, but made them flick away when you realized he’d been _still_ watching you. “How long have we known each other now,  (Y/N)?”

“Too freakin’ long,” you shoot back without any hesitation. A smile appeared on your lips, and you finally faced him. “Craig, seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

His eyes roved over your face, and suddenly his right hand was raised upwards toward it. You hold your breath and try not to step back. Your brain was telling you to move away before this gets weird, but your heart was screeching like a banshee: _DON’T YOU DARE MOVE, LET HIM TOUCH YOU,_ and you’re half inclined to listen to it. His fingers gently cradled the side of your face, and you released the sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been hold in.

His skin against yours felt like heaven. You hadn’t realized what you’d been missing out on each time he tried, but been interrupted. Your (e/c) gaze finally met his head on, and his lips twisted a little over his crooked teeth as he smoothed them into a smile. You can’t help but to smile shyly back. His thumb swept over the skin of your cheek and he took a step forward, invading your personal space, not that you mind very much. He breathed your name and your heart fluttered.

Is he going to kiss you? This felt like the build up to a kiss. You’re torn between excitement and fear. You’d wanted to kiss Craig for so many years now, you’re not sure if you’re ready for it yet. You’ve built up so much hype over such a little thing. His eyes traced every feature of yours he could see from his position, and he finally chuckled. Leaning forward, his lips traced gentle patterns against your skin for a few heartbeats before he pulled away. It was just a gentle kiss on the cheek, and yet still it had your heart doing strange palpitations.

“Be safe,” he told you quietly. You could hear Clyde downstairs yelling for both of you to hurry up, that it’s time to go. You don’t move for a moment. Breaking this moment feels like a real tragedy, and you wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you forever. Leaning forward, your forehead gently bumped against Craig’s and you smiled into his eyes, chuckling under your breath.

“I’ll be safe as long as you follow your own advice too. Okay?”

He nodded, and you finally pulled back. “Come on,” he said. “If we don’t go now, Clyde is going to hunt us down.”

Craig goes ahead of you, but only because you waved him on. You follow at a much slower, more sedated pace. Taking the stairs one at a time, your eyes roved over the people gathered downstairs. There’s still that fear cloying angrily inside of your gut, roiling and bubbling just under the surface, but you’ve decided to ignore it for now. You’re not sure what has it all freaked out, but it’s better not to question it too deeply. You’re scared of what you might find if you do.

“There you are,” Clyde cried out upon seeing you both approaching the front doors. The rest of your little group was there already, waiting patiently for Craig and you. Clyde glared, mock-angry, at you both. “Making out up there?”

“N-no,” you said quickly and your cheeks were red; dammit, you could feel them flushed right now! You glared back at Clyde. “We were talking, stupid.”

“Damn,” Clyde said and turned to Stan. “You win that bet, Stan.”

Stan flashed a grin, almost sheepish, as he caught the looks on both yours and Craig’s faces. “Bet?” You asked and are about to step forward to punch Clyde when Kyle spoke up.

“Make sure to take all the precautions you need to,” he told your group. “I don’t want any of you to get hurt out there.”

“We know, _mom_ ,” Clyde joked and grinned at him when Kyle shot him a look. “We’ll be careful, we’ll come back in one piece, or else you can kick my ass later. Okay?” Kyle nodded. “Good. Now let’s go. Tweek looks like he’s about to vibrate right out of his skin if we don’t get a move on.”

Clyde was correct in his assessment. Your own eyes swept over the blond, and he was shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering. His eyes were skittering from each person, never settling too long before moving on. His nerves were making him freak out so bad that his hands couldn’t stay still, fluttering in front of him: the hem of his shirt grasped, then the collar, then he’d clutch his pants and then he’d clench those hands together. Never stopping long enough to settle, never letting his thoughts float into an easy pattern. He was too wound up.

“Come on,” you said and walked to him, standing by his side and reaching out to take both of his hands in your own. “Stay with me, okay? We’ll get to your parents in no time.”

Tweek looked up at you, eyes inexplicably thankful, and he nodded. His tongue came out to swipe over his chapped lips before he finally smiled at you. “T-thanks,” he whispered, and you smiled back at him. One hand detached from his to go up to his golden hair, running your hand quickly through it to try and tame it before chuckling.

“No problem, Tweekers,” you tell him and then tugged on your conjoined hands, making him follow you. Clyde was already outside, Stan heading after him. Craig was the only one waiting for the both of you, dark eyes worried. Kyle was looking at all of you now from the entrance of the library, and a dark frown was upon his lips as he opened his mouth.

Clyde cut him off. “Next time you see us,” he said with a huge grin, “we’ll have two more people to add to our numbers. ‘Cause I’m not going to come back here unless we have Tweek’s parents!”

Kyle sighed and shook his head. “Just be careful,” he said, and though he aimed the sentiment at Clyde, his eyes were on everyone. They lingered on Stan a lot longer than needed, then skittered away. Stan seemed to understand, and he nodded firmly even though Kyle was no longer looking his way. “Let’s not lose anyone. We’ve been doing well so far. Let’s not mess that up.”

Clyde doesn’t stick around much longer. You’re already all out in the open, and Kyle needs to get the library door closed again, so that safety returns. The rest of you have to get moving, or else zombies might start to realize you’re just standing around. You give Kyle one last wave before turning, tugging Tweek along with you as you follow behind Clyde. He was crouched, moving as swiftly as possible to take shelter from the street ahead of the library. There are very few zombies lingering on it, thankfully, mostly because the library was placed a bit outside of the rest of the city.

“Your parents’ place isn’t too far away,” Clyde said as soon as your group was all gathered behind a billboard sign, declaring the general store had new items at brand new low prices! Not that it mattered anymore; that sign was so old now, and the apocalypse kind of didn’t help the store out with its new savings. “We should be able to get there and back before early afternoon. Thankfully we’re starting out in the morning. Zombies seem more active at daybreak and sunset, so we should be okay if we all play it safe and careful.”

Everyone nodded. For the next little while, things go on without a hitch. Tweek stumbled quite a bit, but you or Craig were always there to take his arm and lead him again. He stuttered a lot, but for the most part he was able to keep his voice in a whisper like you told him to. There was one moment where Stan-- climbing up a fire escape-- hit a metal pipe and caused it to go crashing to the ground. Zombies further down the street heard and whirled, stumbling and swaying toward your group.

“Shit,” Stan cursed as he hurried up, turning around to help you next. You had been the last one waiting to still get atop the building. “Sorry,” he murmured to you, but you waved him off. He hadn’t meant to do it, and everyone was already up on the roof, in relative safety. The zombies reach the bottom of the fire escape right when you get to the roof. You take a moment to peer down at them, your heart fluttering wildly in your throat as you watch them scramble against the brick and jostle each other, looking for any sign of living life they could devour. You shivered and were lost in your thoughts of death, and what if your parents were already like that, and you forgot that you were supposed to be following the others until-- “Come on,” Craig’s voice reached your ears from behind you, his hand landing gently on your shoulder. “We have to keep going.”

“Right,” you responded, and turned to follow after him. The rest of the time to Tweek’s house was quiet. Eventually the zombies thinned out when you reached Tweek’s street, which was surprising. You had thought there would be a lot in the housing district, but perhaps they had moved onto the shopping one instead? It was more likely for humans to go there than to houses, after all. People wanted to go to stores for food and supplies, and houses were probably already ransacked.

“Almost there,” Clyde said when everyone was gathered around him. You were all peering over-- or around, in yours and Tweek’s case-- a fence at the end of the street. Tweek’s house was in the middle, thankfully, so it wasn’t too much further before you’d reach it. “It looks like the street is pretty clear, so if we hurry we could get there without having to take back ways.”

The plan was a little edgy. You glanced around at Clyde’s face, to see he was eager to get going, to get things done. He was probably feeling anxious because you’d all been out in the open for over an hour now. Since holing up in the library, the most you were all out in the open was forty minutes to scavenge supplies, except the one time you’d all gone further out. It made a nasty anxious feeling come into your gut whenever you went too far, because what if you couldn’t make it back? What if this was the last time you went out and then you never returned?

“Are you sure?” You asked him, because everyone else was staring at him but not daring to say a word. Clyde glanced at you, then nodded. His eyes were determined; this was the way he thought you’d all have the best shot. “If we go through backyards--”

“There could be zombies back there,” he piped up with. “Like last time, when one grabbed your ankle?” You shivered at the memory. You tried hard to repress that so you wouldn’t have to keep remembering it. It was the first time you had felt such utter, helpless fear. At least the first time-- when you had killed the librarian-- you had had a gun and a way to fight, but that time there had been nothing. If Craig and Clyde hadn’t been there, it probably would have bitten you or worse. You didn’t want to think about the something that could be worse.

“Okay,” you agreed, and then everyone shifted into a position to run. Tweek was vibrating again, so you reached out and held his hand with your hand. “We’ll be okay,” you tell him quietly. “We’re almost to your house.” He managed to flash you one grateful smile, before Clyde and Stan both take off at a run. Craig glances over at you, and jerks his head to show he wanted you to go before him. You frowned, but he nudged you with his shoulder and finally gave in. You tugged on Tweek’s hand, and then you both are running together too, darting towards his house further down the street. You can hear Craig’s shoes behind you as he followed along, bringing up the rear and probably watching out for anything that might come after your group.

Clyde doesn’t stop at the front door, not that you blame him. It’s too out in the open. Running had been a high enough risk without stopping where every zombie or passing danger could see your group. He careens around the side of the house, Stan hot on his heels, and disappeared into the backyard. “Come on,” you pant as you and Tweek reach the house too. “Backyard, come on, Tweek.”

Tweek was breathing hard as you both stumble around the corner of the house, and then manage to make it to the backyard. Craig and Stan are standing near the backdoor, surveying it and talking quietly to themselves. “What is it?” Tweek finally manages to ask, without even stuttering. He seemed to be getting ahold of himself, now that he was so close to his parents, to the end goal. You squeeze his hand and then release it, right as Craig walked into view. He stopped right next to you and bumped his shoulder against your own, catching your full attention so you could bring your eyes up to meet his own.

“You okay?” He asked quietly. He seemed to like asking that a lot lately, not that you blame him. A lot of things are uncertain in the world now; it doesn’t hurt to keep checking just to be sure. You nod and manage to give him a small, shaky smile. You lean over to bump your own shoulder against his before turning back to what’s going on in front of you. Tweek had walked up to the back door and was studying the wood that was boarded over it.

“That’s a good sign,” you point out, voice hopeful. “It means people are in there, right? That they boarded it up for defense reasons.” Clyde and Stan nod when Tweek looked at them next for reassurance. “People are in there, Tweekers. Your parents! It’s really good.”

“How are we supposed to get in though?” Stan asked. You felt like he hadn’t spoken much this entire trip. Just when he had accidentally hit that pipe, and that was it. You glanced at him and furrowed your brows. He was right. That was a big problem. You couldn’t knock on the door or make too much noise to gain attention, not to mention that Tweek’s parents might shoot first and ask questions later. That was probably the way of thinking in this world at the moment. You didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and you were sure neither did Tweek even if he could get to his parents because of it. “It’ll make too much noise to try and break through the wood. Might attract unwanted attention.”

Craig nudges you, and you glanced up at him to see his eyes are on something else. You turn to follow his gaze to find Clyde practically vibrating in place, his eyes huge and his lips split into a huge grin. “Do you know what this means though?” He whispered urgently, jumping on the balls of his feet. “There are _other_ survivors! There might be more, not just Tweek’s parents but others too. Like my family, and Craig’s family, and  (Y/N)’s family and--”

“Let’s not get too excited,” Stan said in a low, husky voice. He was trying hard to hold back his own excitement. Stan was right; it wouldn’t do to go getting too hopeful, only to have those hopes dashed later on. It was better to remain negative until proven otherwise, so it wouldn’t hurt as much in the long run. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on Tweek and his family.”

“Right,” Clyde said, and looked a bit put out, but then quickly smiled at Tweek. “Let’s get in there and find them, Tweekers.”

Tweek had been busy surveying the walls of the house, a fierce frown on his lips. “I think I can get through that window,” he said and pointed at one that looked like it was in the kitchen. He looked around. “I just need a boost.” No one reacted fast enough; it seemed they were all lost in their own thoughts about survivors still, so you walked forward and grinned.

“I’ll boost you up, Tweek,” you told him and then moved toward the window, holding out your arms. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” Tweek stepped forward and you bent, clasping your hands together so he could step into them. With one quick, efficient movement you’ve helped him up so he could reach the window. He fumbles for a second with the locking mechanism and then shoves the window open, scrambling inside. That leaves the rest of you out still, waiting as you hear stumbling movements from inside. A moment later and he unlocks the backdoor. There’s just enough room on the bottom to crawl through and into the interior, which you all do. The boys insist that you go first and you just roll your eyes as you do.

Upon getting inside and your eyes adjusting to the dim light, you realize that the house looked to be in shambles. It was like a tornado blew through and made everything get thrown all around the place. You bite your lower lip as you worry, hands clasped together and fingers twisting this way and that. It looked as if something bad had happened down here, though you’re too scared to pipe up with that thought. When you glance over at Craig, you see his own dark orbs are reflecting your inner thoughts. So you’re not the only one who’s come up with that conclusion right now, huh? That thought doesn’t soothe your nerves.

“It’s obvious someone’s been here,” Stan finally uttered into the silence. It had twisted and stretched between all of you, as Clyde shut the back door and locked it once more. Tweek had been surveying the room himself, and his blond brows were furrowed tightly together. It was clear that he was thinking along the same lines as everyone else too.

“Yeah,” Clyde said. “A twister.” No one laughed. It seemed no one was in the mood for jokes today. Last time you had all gone out, it had at least been with light hearted calm and banter. This time felt more stressed, filled with silences that stretched on too long. Tweek picked his way through the disaster of a living room, heading towards the stairs that led to the second story. Obviously no one was on the first, or else they would have come to greet their guests by now.

“Come on,” Tweek murmured, and for once he wasn’t twitching or nervously fluttering his hands about. His eyes were staring calmly up the stairs, and then he flicked them over to your little group still hanging back in the kitchen. “Let’s l-look upstairs.”

“I’ll look more deeply down here,” Stan said as you, Craig, and Clyde moved to follow Tweek. Clyde was the one who nodded in assent to Stan’s words. You were right on Tweek’s heels as you followed him up, up, up to the second floor and then paused at the top of the stares. The hallway here was completely deserted; it looked as if things had once been decorating it, but were no longer there. You wondered idly why they would take down pictures and move little tables from here. You could still remember visiting Tweek at his house when you were in high school, and this hall had been much more cluttered.

The first bedroom you came across was Tweek’s; he opened it and peered inside, but nothing of note was there. He stared blankly into the room for another moment, before you placed your hand on his shoulder and he seemed to come alive again. He shook his head, jerking his mind from his thoughts, and then turned to keep wandering further down the hallway. You followed after him. Clyde stopped and walked into Tweek’s room, probably to gather some things that you all might need later, like some more clothes for the blond spazz. He wasn’t thinking right, so he probably hadn’t even had the idea to do something like that.

The next two rooms were empty: a bathroom, and the spare bedroom. That only left the door at the very end of the hall, which you knew to be Tweek’s parents’ room. Tweek seemed to freeze up as he stared at it, his hands gripping the bottom of his shirt so tightly that you were surprised it hadn’t torn. You reached out to touch Tweek, but Craig grasped your wrist and held you back. You glanced over at him, surprised, but he only shook his head. It was clear that he knew Tweek better in this instance, so you let your hand drop. Craig still didn’t remove his fingers from around your wrist, instead gripping it lightly as if he needed the contact.

Tweek hesitantly took the last few steps to his parents’ door and twisted the knob, opening it. The door opened with a long, drawn out squeak of hinges that needed oiling. A little sob rises up from Tweek’s lips and you rush forward to see what he was looking at.

Nothing. There was nothing in the room, and you felt disappointment curl uncomfortably in your gut. “I’m sorry, Tweek--” you begin, but Craig cuts you off.

“The bathroom door is shut,” he points out. It’s a long shot. Why would they be in the bathroom when they have a perfectly good bedroom? But Tweek grasps at the chance and holds onto it like a lifeline, stumbling towards the door of the bathroom. He twists the handle but it catches: locked. He whirls around to stare at you and Craig, desperate.

“What do we do?” He asked and his voice was shaking, but he doesn’t stumble over his words. It’s clear that he has no idea what to do from this point. The lock is in place, and he’s not strong enough to kick through the door. Craig placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and guided you out of the way, walking over to the door to stand next to Tweek.

“Watch out,” he told him, then raised his leg and kicked with all his might. The door nearly flew off the hinges it was on, and landed with a loud echo in the room beyond. Tweek was about to enter, when Craig grabbed his upper arm. “Tweek,” he said and Craig’s face was pale, his mouth barely moving as if he was frozen. “I... I don’t think you want to look in there.”

Your own curiosity gets the better of you, and now you rush forward so you can glance over Craig’s shoulder. He murmurs your name, but he’s distracted, holding Tweek back who has begun to struggle. A strangled sound comes from you when you see what’s within the bathroom and you stagger backwards, a hand rising to cover your eyes. Oh my god, oh my god, they’re dead.

Tweek made a sound in the back of his throat that’s almost the beginning of a scream, but Craig was faster and placed a hand over his mouth. Stan and Clyde chose that moment to enter the room, and they both had confused looks on their faces. Stan stays by the door leading out into the hall, but Clyde moved forward to look into the bathroom.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he ground out and reached out to close the bathroom door, to make it so no one would have to see it anymore. It was much too late at this point, though. Stan was the only one who wouldn’t have that ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. It was clear that Tweek’s mother had become infected; a gunshot wound to the head had quickly ended her suffering, which had clearly been delivered by Tweek’s father. After killing his wife, Tweek’s father had turned the gun on himself. The back of his head and part of his jaw had been blown off from the gunshot blast.

“Wait,” Tweek said, but his voice was muffled against Craig’s hand. Craig allowed it to fall so that Tweek could speak easier. The young blond darted quickly forward into the bathroom and scooped up a small piece of paper from the sink, before darting out of there. He kept his eyes on anything but the bathtub where his parents’ bodies are slumped.

“A note,” you whispered out, still sounding strangled, and your hands had fallen onto your throat from where they had been covering your mouth. You watch as Tweek unfolded the parchment and quickly read over what it said. He whimpered and dropped it, so you stepped forward to pick it up and see what it said yourself.

_Tweek,  
I’m sorry, son. We love you. Survive for us._

“We have to go,” Clyde said from the doorway, where he had wandered back to after glancing into the bathroom. His face is ashen, but you’re sure your face is much the same. Craig’s face was still too pale to be healthy, but there’s nothing any of you can do about it at the moment. Tweek is muttering to himself and twitching, his fingers wrapping around the strands of his own hair.

“Tweek,” you murmured to him and reach out, taking his hands and dragging them away. He didn’t need to be hurting himself right now. “We have to go.” Tweek wouldn’t look at you; his eyes stayed glued to the now closed bathroom door. Craig must have closed it while you were all focused on the note. “We can’t stay here anymore; we need to get back to the library.” Tweek just nodded mutely, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

It doesn’t take long to get out of that house. It’s like demons are nipping at your heels as you all hurry downstairs, and then back out from where you had entered. The street outside is still unnaturally quiet, with no movement or anything in sight. You all run back towards where you had come from, as silent as you could be while you hurry. Tweek stumbled quite a bit, but Craig or you were always there to pick him back up and rush him along.

No one spoke for ages. Clyde is the one who broke the silence once the library is in sight, just down the road. “There could still be survivors though,” he finally piped up with. Stan shot him a look, but Clyde ignored it. “I’m not just fucking around here. There could be people out there! I think we should be looking for them.”

“We could just be putting ourselves in danger if we do,” Stan whispered, shaking his head. “It’s too risky.”

“This was risky, but we did it anyway!” Clyde hissed. Stan shot him a look, and you reached forward and punched Clyde on the arm.

“Shut up, Clyde,” you told him harshly. “We can talk about this later.”

“Dammit,” Clyde muttered. “I had told Kyle I wouldn’t come back unless I had Tweek’s parents...” He sounded mournful, which you didn’t blame him. Everyone was shaken up after seeing what had happened, and watching Tweek the whole walk back. Tweek was definitely not himself, and he seemed to have lost touch with reality at the moment. Craig was the one standing next to him, guiding him along by keeping a hand on his arm and steering.

The library was in sight. You were almost home-- well, you guessed it was home now, though you hated calling it that. It was the nearest thing you had to one at the moment though. Maybe your bad feeling had been for nothing? Or it could have been because of Tweek’s parents, somehow you had known? You weren’t sure. You just could have sworn that the feeling was because something was going to happen that would change everything.

“Hey,” Stan suddenly spoke, coming to a halt. “I think I hear something.”

Everyone else ground down to stopping too, twisting and turning to try to hear the same thing. You couldn’t hear anything, not at first. You tilted your head a bit and pushed some (h/c) hair away from your ear. Scrunching your face up, you tried to listen more intently. Finally, you gasped. “Voices,” you whispered. “I wonder who--”

“Survivors!” Clyde looked triumphant, deliriously happy once more. “That’s other people, that’s--”

He never got to finish his sentence. A loud, echoing bang rung out and shocked horror overtook you. Everything had been fine. Everything had been peachy. You all shouldn’t have stopped, you should have kept walking to the library and not looked back.

Everything had been _fine_ \--

\-- and then Clyde’s head had exploded.


	7. (seven)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gotta behead them,” Cartman was saying when you finally caught onto the things that were happening. You snapped your head up to stare at him, open mouthed. “When you shoot to kill, you have to take their head off or else they’ll come back.”

There were no words in your head to properly describe what was going through it.

The whole front of your shirt was becoming drenched in blood, because when Clyde’s head had been blown off his lifeless body had slumped towards you. Without thinking, you caught him and the two of you went crashing to the ground. Stan was yelling, and Craig had his hands full with Tweek. Craig’s hands were clamped over Tweek’s mouth, muffling his hysterical screams. That gunshot had been loud enough; you didn’t need to alert a hoard to your presence.

Maybe if you were more in your right state of mind you would be properly horrified that your friend’s headless corpse was sprawled over your lap. As it stood right now, you were content to let the blood stain your clothes if only to remain numb a little while longer. Stan was suddenly at your side, pushing Clyde off of you and placing his hands underneath your arms. He heaved you to your feet, speaking to you in a fast, hurried whisper but you weren’t paying attention.

He growled and shook you, hard. Your teeth smacked together loudly and you jolted to your senses. “We need to move,” he told you urgently and began to pull you in the direction of the library. Craig was following behind you, and you could hear Tweek’s labored breathing as he was dragged along. He was muttering to himself feverishly now, half out of his mind, and you honestly didn’t blame him. If you weren’t still feeling so numb, you would probably be in the same boat as the blond.

Suddenly there was the sound of hurrying footsteps from behind you. Stan was still dragging you along, but you heard Craig and Tweek stop. Craig-- who had the gun, who would have to be the defender-- and your heart stalled in your chest. Craig, who you were head over heels for, who could get hurt if he had to stay behind and protect the rest of you. “Stan,” you rasped and tried to jerk your arm free, but the boy wasn’t listening.

“No,” he told you shortly and kept tugging you along. You twisted, struggling, and finally managed to jerk your arm free and whirl around to run back to Craig. Cursing, Stan ground to a halt and hurried to follow. It looked like you were all going to be in this together, it seemed. No every man for himself for this group, at least. You wished you could give Clyde’s body a proper funeral or at least put it in the ground, but you knew there wasn’t enough time. If zombies weren’t already headed towards this location because of that gunshot, you were sure the smell of blood in the air would soon attract them in droves.

A familiar face was standing in front of Craig, holding a loaded shotgun in his hands and smirking. Behind him stood a small group of other survivors, all quailed and shaking and seeming scared to step forward. Cartman was obviously the leader of this other group, and he was staring gleefully at your small ragtag team with delight in his eyes. “Cartman,” Stan snarled from behind your right shoulder. “What the actual fuck, Cartman!?”

Tweek wouldn’t look at Cartman at all; he was spazzing out almost like he used to in elementary school, which was bad. You walked over, torn between wrapping your arms around him or not doing it because... you obviously had Clyde’s blood all over your front. He would probably lose it completely if he had Clyde’s blood on him too. It just wasn’t something anyone should have happen. You shivered as you thought about it, and tried not to look down at your ruined clothing or over at Clyde’s lifeless corpse.

“Gotta behead them,” Cartman was saying when you finally caught onto the things that were happening. You snapped your head up to stare at him, open mouthed. “When you shoot to kill, you have to take their head off or else they’ll come back.” You settled on placing your hands gently on Tweek’s shoulders, shaking him lightly to get him to focus on you. Those wide, frightened eyes came up to stare at you and he reached out and almost desperately grabbed your face between his hands. His fingers were shaking as they pressed firmly against your cheekbones, as if he wanted to keep you held together with what little strength he had.

“Clyde is dead,” he whispered and you nodded your head. You weren’t going to lie to him, not when he could glance over your shoulder and see for himself. “Clyde is _dead_ ,” he repeated and you nodded once more. You had no words. Nothing came to mind as to what you should say in this situation. What were you supposed to say? Your friend had just had his head shot off right in front of you and you were now drenched in his blood.

“It’s really too unfortunate,” Cartman sighed and you twisted around to see he was shaking his head, putting on a front that he might actually regret what he had just done. “I was aiming for his _balls_ , but I guess you can’t hit what doesn’t exist, huh?”

Silence pressed in on all of you. What were you even supposed to say to something like that? Honestly, you knew you should probably be reacting negatively, but you were still in shock. A friend had just died in front of your eyes; it was the first death you had witnessed, and you weren’t sure how you were even still functioning right now. “Tweek,” you said in a very calm, very low voice. You were proud of yourself. You weren’t flipping out, screaming and losing your shit. You’d probably do it later. “We need to get back to the library.”

You’d let the other two handle this; you weren’t in any state to do so. You had to get back, you had to tell Kyle what was going on, and most importantly Tweek had to be safe guarded from further harm. Who knows what Cartman might do next? You reached out and grasped Tweek’s hands, but he shied away and jerked them from you a moment later. “Tweek,” you tried again but he shook his head.

“We have to stay with Craig,” he told you and his eyes flickered over your shoulder to where the male stood. Glancing over yourself, you noticed that he and Stan had been arguing with Cartman in low, tight voices. You must have been too wrapped up in Tweek and getting him out of here to notice. Cartman was like a ticking time bomb-- always had been-- and that made you acutely uncomfortable to be around in a world without law and order.

Cartman waved them off. “Oh, come off it,” he sneered. “He was probably going to get killed anyway, and I wanted to catch your attention.” Stan’s jaw was clenched so tightly, you could see a vein in his forehead throbbing. You stepped forward and set a hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down a little. Your group really didn’t need a full blown fight right now.

“You guys,” you murmured, low enough that you hoped only Craig and Stan would take notice. “We have to _go_.” You could hear a low murmuring sound coming from down a side street and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Zombies were moving this way, a slow, shuffling gait bringing them closer and closer. They hadn’t seemed to realize that there was blood in the air yet, had only heard the gunshot and started to come closer to see what had happened. Stan clenched his fists and nodded, once and very fast.

“She’s right,” he told Craig. Craig was glaring hatefully at Cartman and didn’t seem to take notice of Stan speaking. You moved to his side next and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging gently to get him to start moving towards the library. His eyes flickered to you and held your own gaze, his dark pools angry and intense. You shook your head very slightly.

“We have to go,” you whispered. “Later. We’ll do something later.”

“Clyde...” His voice trailed off and you could hear the wavering strength behind it. Everyone was falling apart. Even through this whole shit storm, no one had ever thought someone was going to actually die. No one except Kyle, who had warned you all to be careful, to take precautions, to stay safe. Who had tried to tell you all to stay at the library, who had tried to be the calm and weary leader that everyone needed. Dammit. He had seen his own parents die, of course he knew this was real and that lives could be lost.

Of course you all wanted to take Clyde’s body with you. He deserved better than this, to be left in the middle of the street without a head, a corpse to be eaten by zombies when they finally came. He deserved to be buried and his family all around him, a funeral and crying and everyone mourning his loss. But right now... he would want you all to focus on your own survival. “No,” you told Craig and shook your head. “We have to go.”

“Pussies,” Cartman snickered and he balanced his shotgun on his shoulder, sneering at your group. “Scared of a couple of zombies? Please, they’re shit heads. They don’t have any brains!” He yelled this and you and Tweek flinched backwards, appalled. “They can’t even hope to touch me. I’ll kill all of them. I have plans, you know. Big plans!” He was rambling now. You glanced at Craig and tugged with your arms still around his waist, pulling him slowly back towards the path that would lead to the library. “You’re all going to be bowing to me as the ruler soon! Just watch!” Cartman shouted after your group as, finally, everyone began hurrying towards the library.

“He’s fucking crazy,” Stan mumbled as the four of you broke into a run, full out streaking towards the library. From a side street a zombie burst out, stumbling and moaning something awful. It nearly toppled into Tweek, who had the bad thought to scream as its decaying fingers briefly touched his shoulder. You doubled back and grabbed his hand so he wouldn’t stop running, jerking him along to keep up with the other two. The zombie would have paid more attention to your group, if a fresh breeze hadn’t picked up and blew Clyde’s spilled blood towards it. More zombies were coming out of hiding holes, frenzied now that the blood was truly in the air.

You chanced one last look at where Clyde’s body was, to see zombies were already piling on top of it. You shuddered at the thought that Clyde was now well and truly gone, nothing left of his remains soon once those creatures were done with him. Cartman was no where to be seen, and you knew that this wasn’t the last you’d all see of him. He’d be back. He seemed to think he was going to be the new ruler of this destroyed world, and that meant that he wouldn’t let you all be left alone for long.

It only took five minutes to run the last stretch to the library. Tweek was completely falling apart by the time you all got there, and Stan pounded on the library door. It took two more minutes before Kyle rushed to unlock everything and let you all in. His eyes swept over your horror filled, pale faces and then glanced around. “Where’s Clyde...?” The question came slowly, and you could see Ike peeking out from behind Kyle, also glancing around for the absent male.

Craig brushed past Kyle and entered, Tweek trailing behind him. Tweek was blubbering, his eyes leaking tears the entire time. He was ranting to himself under his breath and wringing his hands frantically, looking everywhere but at anyone’s face. You followed after him and reached out, as if you would touch him, before you pulled your hand back and allowed it to fall back to your side. You felt powerless, like there was nothing you could possibly ever do to set this right. Which was true, because Clyde was dead and now that was that. Final. Gone. He was the one who kept his cheer, he was the one who kept everyone talking and acting like someday this would all be set to rights and everything would go back to normal.

This was it. This was a zombie apocalypse. It had been weeks and the government had made no move to save any of you. You were alone, left to your own devices. There was no law, no rules of the land, and no one to save you from each other. “Stanley,” Kyle murmured urgently. “Clyde, where’s Clyde?” You twisted to see that Kyle had caught Stan’s arm as he entered the library, stopping him from walking away. Their eyes met and a silent conversation passed, intent looks on each of their faces. Kyle released Stan’s arm a moment later and shut the door, going through the motions of locking up, his hands shaking.

Ike was the next one to speak. “Clyde... is he...?” He let the question drop and hang in the air between all of you.

Dead.

Ike’s eyes went to you, the one person who always treated him like an adult, the person who answered his questions and didn’t ignore him. Slowly, you nodded. “He’s dead, Ike,” you told him and your voice wavered, broke. Was that really your voice? That raspy, light thing that sounded fragile and tiny? This was what the first death of the group had reduced you to. Clyde was gone. There was no way to go back and change that. You had to accept it and keep moving on.

Everyone was silent and their heads all bowed, expect Tweek who was moving restlessly in the background, still talking to himself. “How?” Kyle asked. No one made a move to answer at first. No one wanted to admit to Cartman’s part in it, speak up about his betrayal. Everyone knew Cartman was insane. He had always been so, ever since childhood, but... to kill a fellow friend, someone he had grown up with, someone he had known since he was born.. No one had thought Cartman was capable, but you supposed that was your first foolish mistake. Cartman was capable of anything. You all had to be the same if you wanted to survive.

No one was looking like they were going to answer Kyle, so you decided to do so. You weren’t going to be some weak little baby who cried the entire time, who fell apart and couldn’t keep going. Someone had to be the one with a backbone to make sure everyone survived. In your own way, each one different, you loved everyone in this room. They were so close to you now, people who had banded together for survival but who had also known each other since babyhood. You wanted each one of them to survive, and it would rip another piece of your soul apart if they died.

You looked Kyle in the eye as you murmured, “Cartman.” You paused for a moment to let that sink in, watched as Kyle’s green eyes narrowed dangerously. “Cartman shot him in the head with a shotgun.” Kyle’s eyes took in the blood drenching your front and then snapped back to your own (e/c) gaze. “He said you have to take off their head or else they’ll come back.” You paused again as you thought over everything else he had said.

“He said he’d been aiming for his _balls_ ,” Craig sneered, anger and disgust in his voice. You glanced at him to see he had clenched his hands hard and they were shaking. He wasn’t looking at anyone, instead staring at one of the boarded up windows. “He shot him for no goddamn reason.” You wanted to reach out and take Craig’s hand, but you weren’t sure moving towards him was a good idea right now. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, his own world.

“I always knew that Cartman was crazy,” Kyle whispered, “but never this crazy.”

Finally, making a decision, you moved quietly to Craig’s side. Reaching out, you took his clenched right fist in your own and held it gently in your grasp, smoothing your fingers over the pronounced veins. Craig flinched, but didn’t pull his hand away. His eyes closed and he took in a deep, ragged breath through his nose, held it a moment, and then let it out in a woosh. He glanced at you afterward and his eyes were indecipherable, dark pools that you could fall into and get lost within.

“He said he’s going to take over,” Stan finally said after several tense moments of silence. Everyone looked his way, and you snapped out of your daze of studying Craig’s face. Jerking your head around, you remembered that Stan was right. Cartman had been spouting nonsense about that. “I wonder what he meant--”

Suddenly a loud hammering came from the front library door. Kyle jumped and nearly fell over, Stan whirling to stare hard at the door itself. Craig’s fist tensed in your grasp once more and you looked up at him, then back at the door. Tweek screamed and ran up the stairs to the second floor. You twisted your head to watch him flee, worry clawing at your gut. But you didn’t have time to go after Tweek right now; you knew he was safe upstairs, so you let him be for now.

Kyle was the first one to move towards the door. “Who goes?” He called through the thick wood, his own fists clenched as well. Everyone was tensed, as if for a fight. He glanced over his shoulder and jerked his head towards the stairs, eyes on his brother. Ike shook his head frantically, wanting to stay with the rest of you, but Kyle’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ike,” he hissed. “Go!”

“Go on,” Stan said and nudged Kyle’s brother with a booted foot, jerking his own head towards the stairs. “It’s for the better, Ike.”

Ike stomped his foot-- childishly, you thought-- and then whirled on his heel and stalked up the stairs himself, following after Tweek. Kyle turned back towards the door again. No answer had come to his question yet, so he posed it again, louder this time. “Who is it?” He called through the wood. Too bad you had all boarded up the windows on the first floor, otherwise you would have been able to see who it was.

A soft murmur could be distinguished through the door. Kyle glanced at Stan for a moment, the two being the closest to the door and being able to hear the response. Finally he set about undoing all the things that kept the door tightly sealed. “Who is it?” Craig asked Stan, and Stan glanced at him with raised brows, confused.

“Kenny,” he responded and that was when Kyle got the door open, for the orange parka wearing male to step inside agilely.

“Sup,” Kenny greeted your small group, raising his hand and a smile on his lips. The usual brown scarf he had wrapped around his mouth was loose and dirty, hanging limply around his neck. Stan and Kyle didn’t react, just stared at him with suspicion. Obviously since Cartman was known to be crazy, they figured they should be on their guard even with their friend Kenny. Kenny didn’t seem to notice, or wasn’t too worried about it in any case if he did. “Come on in, guys,” he said over his shoulder to whoever had come with him.

A second later, and Bebe Stevens trailed in, with Token Black right behind her. Bebe was a sight for sore eyes. She was one of your only girl friends here in South Park, and you had meant to see her ages ago. You moved forward as if to go embrace her, but suddenly Craig’s fingers opened and wrapped around your hands, pulling you back. You glanced up at him and he glanced down at you, shaking his head very minutely. It wasn’t good to go forward yet, his eyes seemed to say. Wait to see what happened first.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asked, and Kenny turned his head to face the black haired male, a blond brow quirked.

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” Kenny asked and shoved his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “I found out my two best friends are alive and they’re here, together. I wanted to join up.”

“You had been with Cartman,” Stan said in a level voice. You were pretty proud of him for not completely wigging out. It was probably because he’d known Kenny so long, and Kenny usually just went along with whatever was easiest. He probably didn’t condone Cartman anymore than Stan and Kyle themselves ever had. “Why’d you leave his group for ours? I’m sure his is stronger.”

“What do I care about that?” Kenny scoffed and then grinned at them. There was worry in his eyes as he looked first at Kyle, then at Stan. “I missed you two. You’re my best friends. I only stuck around Cartman cause, well, his was the first group I found. I tried searching for you before I bumped into him, but I couldn’t figure out where you both went.” A small smile came to his lips, a true smile, and it seemed to warm both Stan and Kyle to him. “I’m glad you’re both okay.”

Kyle was the first to step forward and wrap his arms around Kenny. “I’m glad you’re alive, Kenny,” you heard Kyle murmur as he stepped backward, and Kenny nodded gruffly. He glanced away from Kyle to Stan and held his arms open.

“Come on, buddy,” he told the male and grinned. “Come give your favorite McCormick a hug.” Stan did so, and everything seemed to ease up after that. But Craig still held your hand tightly within his own, refusing to let you move forward yet. He was still worried, still clinging to suspicion. You didn’t really blame him much for it either. They had been part of Cartman’s group, and a slow to trust nature was what was going to make or break you in this new world.

Your eyes caught and held Bebe’s own, and she gave you the smallest of watery smiles, her eyes going to Craig and then back to you. You wanted to go to her; she had been your best friend all through middle school and high school, had ditched Wendy countless times for you. It had been weird when you had first become best friends, but somehow you two fit together perfectly and that had been that. When she had started seriously dating Clyde, she had slowly left her other crowd to join Clyde’s own, to integrate herself with Token, Tweek, Craig and you. She had wanted to be friends with her boyfriend’s friends, fit into his life better and get to know his own world more.

“First thing’s first,” Kenny said once he and Stan had shared a manly hug. “Cartman has a lot of plans, and I want to share them with you. We can’t let that fatass get the upperhand on us.” He glanced at Token and Bebe, nodding his head to them. You figured it was a way to show them they were welcome here, that they didn’t have to worry. Token still looked weary, but his eyes were on Craig and they seemed to be having a silent conversation between them. You looked up at Craig yourself, studying his closed off face, before he finally nodded his own head in Token’s direction.

The tension left your shoulders as you heaved a relieved sigh. Things would be okay, for now anyway. Token took the first step forward and held out his hand, clapping Craig on the shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, so quietly that you might have not heard him if you weren’t standing right next to Craig. You both knew instantly this was about Clyde, that Token had seen what had happened. His dark eyes were filled with rage and he held Craig’s shoulder tighter, both men staring at each other without saying anything further.

The silence was broken when Kenny began speaking. He had watched Craig and Token’s little interaction and seemed to sense that it was completed, or at least over for now. “About Cartman’s plans,” he reiterated and the spell was broken. Everyone turned their attention on the blond and seemed to focus. “He wants to run you guys out of town. I don’t think he’s going to do it soon, but in a few days, maybe. He wants to be the _overlord_ of South Park, and eventually take over the world. He doesn’t seem to think anyone can stand up against him, not even a whole pack of zombies.”

Token scoffed. “He thinks the least about the zombies,” he spoke up and shook his head. “Arrogance is going to be his downfall.”

“We just need that downfall to be soon,” Bebe murmured and you glanced over at her. Her eyes were on the floor and she was biting her lower lip, worrying it between her front teeth. “I can’t stand him,” she whispered vehemently. “After what he did..” Tears came quickly to her eyes and she harshly wiped them away. You broke away from Craig’s hold to go to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and pulling her against you. She gratefully took in the comfort and set her head on your shoulder, sniffling.

Clyde and she had been rocky since they had chosen to go to two separate colleges, but you had heard from her recently that they were working on it. They wanted to survive, wanted to stay together. Though it was hard to have two states between them in distance, Bebe and Clyde had agreed it was for the best for their education and their futures together. Now that was gone, ripped away by the bullet from Cartman’s gun. Bebe’s future was bleak before her without the person she had been with since middle school, her other half, the person who made her laugh loudest and smile brightest.

“Come on,” you told her and smiled weakly at her. “Why don’t I show you where we sleep and you can lay down for a bit?” You figured she’d be grateful for the rest and the oblivion sleep would grant her. She nodded and flashed you another watery smile, sniffling a little and swiping a hand at her eyes.

“Thanks,” she told you. The two of you began to head towards the stairs, but Craig reached out and snagged your hand before you could pass completely by him. You looked over your shoulder at him, brows furrowed and confusion in your eyes.

“Yell if you need anything,” he told you solemnly. Nodding, your eyes stayed connected with his a few more moments longer, drawing out the gesture, before you flashed him a tense smile and turned away. Bebe and you headed up the stairs to the second landing, still holding each other. She was mostly doing it for strength, and you were holding her now because you knew she needed it, needed to know someone was there for her if she asked for help.

Ike looked around when you and Bebe reached the second landing, then lost interest quickly. It was clear he was straining hard to overhear whatever was going on downstairs. His back was towards the stairs, but it was still leaning up against the railing that separated the second floor from the sheer drop down to the first. You figured you should put him out of his misery, so you called out his name. When he looked around you told him, “You can go downstairs now. It’s safe. Tell your brother if he gives you trouble that I said it was okay. I’ll handle him if you need me to.”

Ike quickly jumped to his feet and smiled at you, racing forward to wrap his arms around your stomach. “Thanks!” he told you softly, before racing down the stairs. Poor boy just wanted to be included in things, not treated like a child. You understood what he wanted, but also where Kyle was coming from in protecting him so fiercely. Ike was the last thing Kyle had left in this world as family, as far as the two Broflovskis knew, and Kyle didn’t want to chance losing him.

“This is where we sleep,” you told Bebe as you brought her to the area where all the blankets and pillows were. You wondered if you should point out which was Clyde’s, but you figured she’d find out later if she wanted to. His pack was sprawled in the corner by his little makeshift bed, and she’d see his favorite shirt on top of his pillow if she was actually paying attention. “I have an extra blanket and pillow that I stored away that you can use. Let me go get it, okay?”

Bebe nodded and released you, so you went to retrieve the items as fast as you could. Coming back, you handed them over and watched as she made her own little bed. Your eyes searched the area and found Tweek curled up in a ball on his own blanket, rocking gently and humming to himself. You’d have to handle him when Craig was next free. You were sure both of you would have to work together to get Tweek out of his own horror filled head.

“Are you going to be okay?” You asked her, wanting nothing more than to go take a quick shower before laying down yourself. You wanted all of this gore gone, washed down the drain so you wouldn’t have to keep thinking about it drying on your skin and clothes. Bebe nodded and shot you a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you,” she told you and reached out, catching your wrist and holding it firmly in her own grasp. “Really.” She laid down and you took that as your cue that you could go. You hurried away and grabbed your own little backpack of things, going towards the bathroom next. You had to step over Tweek to get there, and he flinched when he heard your footsteps coming near him. You paused next to him and peered down at his curled up form, pain welling up and twisting in your chest. You wanted to help him, but you weren’t sure how to reach him. His eyes were clouded over and he hummed to himself louder with you standing there, so you left him to his own devices. For now.

Closing the bathroom door behind you, you sagged against it with the weight that was bearing down upon your shoulders. It was all too much, to pretend to be strong, to pretend that you could keep going. Clyde was gone. He had been a dear friend whom you had known since childhood and now he was wiped out, forever. You would never hear his joking voice again, his loud cat calls whenever he wanted to tease you. He’d never tell you to take a chance on Craig, to admit to your feelings. Sighing, you swiped a hand over your eyes and then pulled yourself back together.

You needed to set some priorities. First thing would be a quick shower and a change of clothes, then you would brave a few more hours in the waking world. After all, you still had to talk to Craig about Tweek and to attempt to speak to the poor, blond boy. He was probably going out of his mind from freaking out and worrying himself half to death.

Shower first, worry later, you decided.

It was the best you could do for now.


	8. (eight)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s my fault Clyde’s dead,” Tweek finally gasps out. “If I hadn’t insisted... insisted w-we go, h-he would still be alive!” This was the real heart of the matter, the real thing that had been tearing Tweek apart the last few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all the chapters that are currently written. Now you're all up to speed and have to wait for more updates! Hope you enjoyed so far.

You caught Craig an hour after you had a quick wash. You grabbed his arm so he couldn’t walk past you, because it looked like he was off in his own little world. He twisted and stared at you, startled. You were right about him being lost in thought; he hadn’t even realized you had been standing here, watching him for the past few minutes. “Can we talk for a second?” You didn’t really give him a chance to say yes or no; you tugged and he followed, obediently almost. That was the strangest thing. Craig was the farthest from obedient, but he was so out of it right now himself that he tagged along without complaint.

No words were spoken until you were in the very far back of the library, away from everyone else. Kenny was discussing strategies with a tight lipped, unhappy looking Kyle, while Stan was seated upon the floor and picking at the remains of his dinner. You had passed on the food for now. Your stomach kept twisting uncomfortably whenever you thought about eating. You just kept thinking of Clyde, watching his head explode in front of your eyes, and then... yeah. Eating wasn’t something you wanted to do just yet.

“What’s up?” Craig asked once the two of you were well tucked away from the others. His dark eyes were studying you, but your own eyes skittered away. You bit your lower lip and worried it between your teeth.

“I think we need to talk with Tweek,” you told him softly, almost whispering. You glanced up at him from underneath your lashes and then sighed. “It’s been an hour and a half; he just keeps shaking on his blanket and singing to himself, looking half out of it. Something has to be done, Craig.” Craig nodded, just like you knew he would. He knew that you two were the best ones to go talk to Tweek and ease his fears, get him out of his own head and soothe his worries.

“What do you think we should say?” he asked and you shook your head. You weren’t sure. What could you two say? You couldn’t lie and tell him everything would be okay. That would only hurt him worse when things didn’t get better. You weren’t sure if he wanted to hear the truth either, so that might be out. You glanced up at Craig and, upon looking so helpless, Craig seemed to take pity on you. “We can’t treat him like a child. Even if he has different sensibilities than us, he’s not a kid. We’re going to have to level with him and convince him he has to snap out of this. Everyone has to keep their heads, now more than ever.”

You couldn’t remember the last time Craig had spoken so much. You were kind of in awe right about now. You nodded mutely. Craig studied you for several more moments. He reached a hand up and cupped the side of your face. Without even thinking about it, you leaned towards the touch, allowing your eyes to slip closed. “How are you doing?” The question came in a hushed whisper, and your eyes slowly opened to look up at him. Craig was studying you closely, his eyes bouncing from your face to the rest of you, as if making sure you weren’t injured.

“I’m as well as can be expected,” you told him on the tail end of a sigh. “I know I can’t fall apart. I have to keep it together.” You were sure Craig realized that too and that was the only reason he was still functioning. One of his best friends was dead and you all couldn’t even stop for two minutes to mourn his loss properly. It was a weakness and you had to keep moving on, keep being strong. Someday you would have the time to mourn for him. You just hoped it wasn’t too late by that point. This could be one of those things that would harden an individual pass what they used to be, changed them. You hated the thought of you or Craig ever being changed from who you both were in the beginning, but it was bound to happen. Zombie apocalypses changed people like that.

Craig took a step closer to you and your heart stalled, your breath freezing in your lungs. His eyes had darkened considerably more than their normal color, and they were studying you now. His tongue came out and rolled over his lips, telling you he was nervous, because you had always known his tells. People would say he was best friends with Tweek, or sometimes even Clyde, but they didn’t know Craig as well as you did. You were the one he went to after fights, you were the one he confided most of his secrets in, you were the only one who knew he still watched Red Racer almost religiously.

“Crai--” You would have said his whole name, but unfortunately you were cut off. Not by another person this time either. It seemed Craig had finally taken the initiative in life. You were more startled than anything, and didn’t respond fast enough. It was over before it could truly again, his lips leaving yours, and you were still reveling over the fact that **Craig Tucker just kissed you**. Was this a dream? Had you passed out in the shower and were now off in lala land? This felt too surreal to be the living world.

Craig’s eyes roved over your face, his own shut off from outside reading. You couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Had he kissed you because of Clyde’s death? Because you were both vulnerable? Or because he truly had feelings for you? You weren’t even in your right mind to sort all of your thoughts and start to question him about this. Would he even answer you truthfully if you worked up enough guts? Ugh! You hated when your head spun too fast for you to make much sense of your thoughts. It was because Craig had kissed you, you were sure of it. It was throwing you off kilter!

“Sorry,” he said when you made no move to speak right away. Mostly you were attempting to frantically gather your thoughts, but it was hard to think past the sheer delight that _Craig had kissed you_. That thought itself kept bouncing around inside of your skull, doing crazy things to your already pretty shattered nerves. He took a step back, but your hand shot out and grasped his wrist, keeping him where he was, so close to you that you could feel his body heat permeate into your own chilly limbs.

“Don’t be sorry,” you told him in a whisper, looking up at him and trying to convey how happy the kiss had made you. “I liked it.”

“... did you?” He quirked a brow, but otherwise still looked pretty aloof. You were sure, this time, that it was a defense mechanism. Perhaps he did like you just like you had been crushing on him this whole time, maybe you both had a chance to be together. It sucked that it took the end of the world to bring this about, but you weren’t going to start questioning his judgment. If he liked you enough to kiss you, maybe he’d want to do it again. And again. And you wouldn’t complain about the why, as long as you got what you wanted: his heart and everything that came with it.

“Yes,” you told him firmly and your lips quirked, showing a shy smile. “I’ve wanted to do that a long time. Guess you’re braver than me though. I’m a bit of a pussy.”

Craig’s own lips twitched a little, showing his amusement. “You wanted to do that?”

“Yes,” you repeated and leaned up, this time making sure you were the one to initiate the kiss. This one was longer than the last one, but still shy, awkward. It would probably take awhile to get used to this. You wanted to talk to him about your emotions and his, but you figured now wasn’t the time. Tweek. You had to keep telling yourself that the two of you needed to be focusing on Tweek. It got harder when his arms wrapped around you, hauling you against his body and keeping you firmly there. A few moments stretched and you felt like you were in heaven, that you never wanted this to end. “Wait,” you gasped when his mouth left your own for a moment, the briefest of seconds, taking your chance to speak reason. “We should stop.” For a moment, Craig’s face closed off and you were quick to tell him, “For now. We can keep going later, okay? I just... I want us to talk to Tweek first, and then... yeah.” You felt awkward to be telling him you wanted to keep making out with him later, that you wanted this to happen again.

Craig blinked and his expression cleared. “Right,” he told you softly and released you, so you could step back and run a hand through your slightly mussed hair, straighten out your clothes. He did the same with his own appearance and then waited for you, his eyes upon your face, making your cheeks heat with a self conscious blush.

“Okay,” you finally said and then tilted your head towards the stairs. “Let’s go talk to Tweek.”

Craig took the lead and you followed along after him. This was good. Your brain was still a jumbled mess and you weren’t sure you’d be able to assume a leadership position right about now. Each thought in your head was a distracted observation about the boy you had just _made out with_. He had had his lips on your own! You reached a hand up and self consciously placed a finger upon them, rubbing softly and gazing off into the distance. You were so distracted that you nearly ran into Craig, who had stopped and twisted to look at you upon reaching the bottom of the stairs.

“You ready?” Craig asked, and it felt like the spell was broken. Your mind shifted back into its serious place and you nodded firmly. Craig reached out, his fingers seeking and curling around your wrist. He pulled it up until his fingers could fall and entangle with your own, sending a warmth curling in your chest and pooling into your gut. You peered up at him quietly, studying his face, but his own expression was serene as he stared back at you.

“Come on,” you whispered and took the first step, going up slowly, still holding hands with Craig as you both walked. It didn’t take long to reach the second landing. You both remained quiet as you walked towards where Tweek was curled, still shaking, rocking back and forth gently while humming to himself under his breath. Bebe’s breathing was even, so it was clear she was asleep. You wondered if you should try to convince Tweek to go somewhere else for this. He might get loud and you didn’t want to startle Bebe awake.

“Tweek,” Craig said as he crouched next to the blond. The frailer boy flinched as if he had been struck, which was the only sign he gave that he heard his friend speak at all. “We need to talk.”

“You might feel better if you let it all out,” you reasoned as you also bent to hover near Tweek’s side. You reached out and lightly placed your hand on the quivering boy’s shoulder, but Tweek cringed away. He turned his head very slightly so that his wide, luminous green eyes could connect with first yours and then flicker towards Craig next, before going towards the ceiling. Well, at least he was reacting to the two of you and not outright ignoring both of you when you spoke to him. That was a good sign, you supposed.

“W-what is there t-to t-t-talk about?” He was trying to pretend to be innocent. Obviously he was in the denial stage, at least while he was speaking aloud. In his head, maybe, he was telling himself that everything was real and freaking out about it, but when he spoke to the two of you he didn’t want to face it. Not yet. You couldn’t really blame him, but you could also understand that there was no time for weakness. Not in this world, not in a world as cruel and harsh as the one Cartman was going to rain down on all of you in a few days time.

“Clyde and your parents are dead,” Craig said levelly. The brutal honesty made both you and the blond laying on the floor flinch. You hadn’t thought Craig would just throw that out there like that, but... you knew Craig. He wasn’t one for sugar coating anything. You supposed you should have seen this coming when you asked him to come assist you in this endeavor. Craig’s eyes didn’t waver, but you could see his lips tightening just a fraction. He wasn’t happy about having to be blunt either, but it was probably the only way to break through to Tweek. You couldn’t lie. Tweek had to be an adult now or suffer the consequences. “I’m pretty sure that’s something we should discuss.”

“I-I’m fi-fine,” Tweek managed to stammer out, but his eyes wouldn’t meet either of yours this time around. You reached out and nudged him, ignoring the way he shied away from the touch as soon as your fingers found his shoulder. He finally actually met your eyes though, so you counted that as a victory.

“You’re not acting like someone who’s _fine_ , Tweekers,” you told him as gently as you could manage. His green eyes stared back at you, glassy and large in his pale face, and you sighed and reached out again. This time he didn’t back away from your touch, instead letting your hand settle onto his face and cup his cheek. “You can talk to us, if you’d like. It might help.”

“I d-don’t know what to s-s-say,” he said and his eyes slowly filled with tears. God, this was tearing you apart! You didn’t know what to say either. You understood what he meant. What was one supposed to say when a friend dies, when another friend’s family is found dead in their childhood home? There were no words that came to your lips that would ease this burden, no feelings that you could properly express to take away his pain or even your own.

“You can just ramble,” Craig piped up with. You looked over at him and felt Tweek’s face move as well to peer at his friend. Craig looked back at both of you in nonchalance, but his body was as tense as a coiled spring, ready to snap. This was taking a toll on him too. He tried to act so brave and strong, but Craig was only human and he had emotions too, hiding behind that facade. “Tell us whatever it is that’s going through your head.”

Tweek remained silent for several long, tense moments. Both you and Craig crouched there, waiting patiently for him to start talking, knowing that he just needed some time to sort his thoughts into a proper order. “I just...” he paused and looked away, finally sitting up so that his face was on level with both of yours. “If I had g-gone when I ha-had called them in the b-beginning... maybe the-they would still be a-alive,” was whispered painfully and Tweek’s eyes filled with tears. “B-but I went here w-with you g-g-guys instead of l-looking for them,” a hiccup interrupted him before he continued, “a-and I a-almost completely for-forgot that the-they were still o-out there and--”

“It’s not your fault.” You reached out and placed your hand atop his head, fingers patting his golden hair down and smoothing over the colicks. “No matter what’s going through your head, you can’t honestly believe it’s your fault, Tweek. You’re allowed to be selfish and think about your own safety. Your parents would have wanted that anyway, they would have wanted you safe.”

“If you had gone in the beginning there’s a chance you would be dead too,” Craig murmured. You looked around at him and his dark eyes met, held yours for a moment, before moving back to Tweek. “That’s something we all would have regretted, if we had let you go to them, if _I_ had let you go to them. I would have never forgiven myself as your friend.”

Seriously, was today a world record or something for how much Craig was speaking? You were just blown away. Then again, you should have known that he actually felt things, deep inside where he hid himself away. He was human just like you were. He had emotions and fears, he just didn’t always convey them to everyone around him. You reached out with your free hand and placed it on Craig’s thigh, squeezing lightly. His right hand came to cover your own and his fingers wrapped around your own, briefly tightening their hold around yours before loosening. He didn’t let go though.

“I still... I still regret it,” Tweek whispers heartbrokenly. It makes your own heart crack and you reach forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to you. He’s stiff at first, unwilling to be touched, but after a moment or two passes he loosens up. His head thumps against your shoulder as he slumps into you, his breath coming out in a shaky exhalation. “It should have been me,” he murmurs into your shoulder and you tighten your hold. Tweek’s breath hitched and you felt a wetness on your shirt from tears. You move to release him but suddenly his arms are thrown around your waist, clinging to you, refusing to let you budge.

“They might not have died,” he wails and all hope for staying quiet so Bebe can continue sleeping are dashed. “I s-should have in-insisted we f-f-find them!” His body is wracked with his gusty exhalations as he continues to sob. You would turn and look at Craig if you could, but Tweek was holding you too tightly for you to even hope to get a peek at the raven haired male. Your arms tighten around him and you raise one hand to pat him carefully on his back. He sobs again and the noise is heart rending, making your chest hurt and ache and your breath come in tiny little gasps. You want to cry with him, you want to share his pain. There are so many questions you yourself wish to have answers to about your own parents, about your own friends and their families still out there, unknown to you.

“It’s my fault Clyde’s dead,” Tweek finally gasps out. “If I hadn’t insisted... insisted w-we go, h-he would still be alive!” This was the real heart of the matter, the real thing that had been tearing Tweek apart the last few hours. He felt like it was his fault his friend had died. You finally manage to turn your head to look at Craig but his face is turned towards the ground, shielding his expression. You wonder what’s going through his head. You would reach out to him if you could, but your hands are full of Tweek. Literally. Craig’s hands clench upon his knees and finally he looks up, dark, expressionless eyes meeting your own (e/c) ones.

“It’s not your fault,” Craig told him vehemently. Tweek twitched and drew back from your arms, twisting his face to look at his friend. “Clyde chose to go out there, Tweek. He chose his own path. He wanted to go out there for his own reasons, not just because you insisted. He would have eventually gone out there on his own even without you as an excuse; he wanted a reason, and he got one when you mentioned your parents. He was hoping for survivors, hoping his family was alive, hoping to have a chance to find them. Tweek, none of this is your fault.”

Craig said it all so passionately; Tweek’s tears slowed and he hiccupped, his breath starting to even. His face was blotchy with color high in his cheeks, but his eyes were clearing up. Silence falls between your group. From the side, Bebe shifts uncomfortably and finally gets up. She doesn’t say a word as she walks past and then downstairs, leaving the three of you truly alone now. Still the silence persists, seeping over the surrounding area the three of you inhabit and refusing to budge. You stare at Tweek hard and then glance quickly at Craig to see he was also peering at the blond.

“Okay,” Tweek finally uttered and sighed, a breathless exhalation that still sounds shivery with suppressed tears. That’s all he says on the matter, but you can tell that he’s starting to believe you both. You reach out and grasp his shoulder, squeezing.

“We have to keep our heads about us,” you tell him softly. “We can’t let things tear us apart. If we do... Tweek, you have to try and stay strong, okay? I know it’s hard, but I also know you’re tenacious and you can do it if you put your mind to it.”

You watched and finally, after another few moments, Tweek nodded in response. “Okay,” he replied again. “I... I want to try to get some real sleep.” You clambered to your feet, Craig doing the same beside you. You smile down at the frail, thin Tweek and worry cloys at your heart, but you shove it aside for now. There’s not much more that can be done at this point.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you tell him and reach out, ruffling his hair affectionately. “We’ll be downstairs if you need us, okay?” Tweek nodded in response, so you and Craig turn to do just what you had said. The stairs are taken one at a time, as calmly as can be done, but when you both hit the ground floor you turn towards one another.

Craig is the first to speak. “Well?” His eyes survey your face for any inkling of what you were thinking and then he sighed heavily.

“That went as well as could be expected,” you responded and cracked the tiniest of smiles. “At least he might start acting more normal now, or as normal as can be expected in this situation.”

There’s a commotion from the corner of the library and you both turn to peer over. Kenny is excitedly saying something to Kyle, Stan and Token, waving his hands about as if to emphasize his point. Stan is shaking his head furiously and Kyle appeared to be worn down, his head pointed towards the ground and his shoulders slumped. Craig jerked his head in their direction. “I’m going to go see what that’s about,” he told you and you smiled up at him, nodding. “Are you going to come with?”

“Nah,” you replied as flippantly as you could. “I’m tired, and I’m relatively sure it’s about Cartman. You can just fill me in later?”

Craig nodded in response, then turned and walked away. You watched him go, before a finger came up to press against your lips. Your memory goes back to that shared kiss from before and a shiver runs down your spine. Would Craig want to repeat that again later? You certainly hoped he would. Your blood was singing in your veins as you thought back to it, thought about a repeat performance. Shaking your head quickly, you dislodged the thoughts and turned towards the kitchen. You were finally starting to feel a bit peckish.

As soon as you entered you noticed Ike sitting in a corner of the kitchen, head down, hands clasped loosely in his lap. You pause for only a moment before moving towards him. God, it felt like you were fixing a lot of broken situations today. That was what you were: Fix-It (Y/N). They should really nominate you with an official title. Smoothing the way out for everyone to figure things out and get along seemed to be one of your newest duties nowadays. “Hey, Ike,” you greeted as you pulled a chair up next to him, flashing him a small grin when he glanced up at you. “What’s up?”

Ike’s narrow shoulders shrugged and he sighed out, “Nothing.” It certainly didn’t sound like nothing to you though. You tilted your head a bit to the side, trying to catch his eye, but he was back to staring glumly at his hands in his lap. You let the silence fill the air for a few more moments before finally making a move to speak again. Obviously Ike had no intention of doing so even though you had given him the opportunity to.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” you noted. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Ike jerked his eyes up to meet your own, finally, and he bent forward to vehemently ask, “Is Clyde really dead?” You jerk backward, away from him, startled by the suddenly question. “No one will tell me what’s going on. They just keep telling me not to worry about it. Well, what else am I supposed to do!? I’m in this situation too, of course I’m going to worry about it! I’m thirteen! I’m not some baby, I can handle knowing the situation, but Kyle insists on... ugh!” Ike pouted and looked away, crossing his arms over his thin chest. “He treats me like I’m a baby still. I just want to be told what’s going on.”

“Yes,” you replied, “Clyde is dead.”

Ike turned his startled eyes upon you and blinked owlishly. “Huh?”

“Clyde is dead,” you repeated.

“Will he...” Ike swallowed for a moment, hard, before continuing: “Will he come back as, you know, one of them? A zombie?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, “definitely not.” A silence stretched between you both and then you sighed. “Cartman killed him,” you elaborated. “He shot him... in the head.” You might as well go all in. You wanted to treat him like an adult, so he had to know all the details. You’d have to talk to Kyle later about babying his little brother. You understood why he was doing it, but Ike had to be taught how to defend himself and act like the rest of you. If something happened... if he was the only one left, he had to know how to survive on his own.

“Why not?” He peered back at you curiously. Obviously he wanted to know, you should have figured he’d ask that. “Is it cause of the normal reasons people used to say before all of this?”

“If you remove the head,” you told him, “then the person can’t come back as a zombie. That’s what Cartman told us... after he killed Clyde.” Ike looked back down at his lap and bit his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth and fidgeting a little. He glanced at your face, then away, then back again.

“So that’s what he did?” he asked. “He shot Clyde’s head off?”

“Yes,” you said as gently as possible. “He shot Clyde in the head and that’s how he died.”

“And he fell on you?” His eyes went to your clean shirt, then back to your own (e/c) orbs. “I was wondering why you had so much blood on you, you know, before.”

“Yes,” you answered patiently. Silence fell between the two of you again, but this time it was comfortable. Ike was kicking his feet idly and swinging them about, looking off into the distance and not seeing anything. Finally, he seemed to jerk himself from his thoughts and turned his face back to you.

“Thanks,” he told you sincerely. You glanced at him and quirked a brow, clearly asking why without opening your mouth to utter a word. “For treating me like an adult,” he went on to explain. “I know why Kyle does it, I know why he wants to keep me in the dark, but... it won’t help anything. I still saw my mom and dad die, just like he did, and... I know this isn’t a dream. I’ve accepted that. I just want him to treat me like I’m an adult, not some little kid he has to shelter forever.”

“He just doesn’t want you to get sucked into this and forget that you are a kid, Ike,” you answered honestly. “He’s probably scared you’ll lose what innocence you have left. I wish I still had mine, you know. I wish I could be a kid and let the others work to keep me safe, but I can’t. I _am_ an adult and I have to throw my back into the work too.”

Ike nodded. “But still...” he trailed off a moment and then grinned up at you. “Thanks for at least treating me like I’m a grown up.”

“You’re welcome,” you told him simply and reached out to ruffle his hair. He swatted your hand away and playfully glared at you, so you stuck your tongue out at him. “Now, where did the leftovers go? I’m starving!” As if to help to reinforce your words your stomach grumbled loudly and Ike laughed in response.

“Over here,” he told you and hopped to his feet. You watched as he got the food out and set it on the table for you, watched as he got a plate and some silverware. You wished you could protect Ike too. You knew everyone in the group did, but... he was right. He couldn’t be treated like a little kid anymore. This apocalypse wasn’t going away anytime soon, no help was on the way, and that meant you all had to deal with it equally together: Ike included.

You just hoped all of you working together would be enough, in the end.


	9. (nine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could--”
> 
> “That’s not even funny, Ike,” Kyle cut him off and glared at his little brother. “You’re thirteen. You’re not going to be the leader.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, you guys lucked out. The other site I had this originally posted on had to wait a year and a half for this update, but you guys only had to wait a month! Hope everyone enjoys. Please don't kill me once you see what happened with Kenny and his family. [flees]

“Hey,” Craig said as he entered the kitchen. “I think you do want to hear this.” You had just finished eating something small for dinner, and Ike had ditched halfway through to do something else. You looked up at Craig as you set the dishes down in the sink, tilting your head.

“It’s about Cartman?” you guessed. Craig nodded. “Alright, I’ll be out in a second.” 

Craig didn’t bother waiting around, instead disappearing back out into the library. You wiped your hands off on your pants before following after him. You found everyone crowded together in the children’s section-- it was starting to be the place where everyone gathered for these meetings-- and you took the only beanbag left to seat yourself in. “What’s going on?” you asked when no one immediately moved to start talking. 

“We’ve gotta figure out what we’re gonna do about Cartman,” Kenny told you. “I don’t think we can put it off anymore.” 

“He’s right,” Kyle agreed, but he looked tired as he said it and his eyes didn’t try to meet anyone else’s. He just stared hard at the ground as he spoke. “It’s not going to go away. We have to do something.” 

“But what?” Token piped up. “It’s not like this is some test at school we just have to figure out the formula for. This is Cartman and, if you’ve forgotten, he’s fucking nuts.” 

“We could leave,” Bebe announced. Everyone turned to stare at her, and she shrugged. “We could just pack up and go. You still have two working cars. Even if Cartman decides he doesn’t care about us, he’s gonna start wanting the vehicles eventually. I say we leave before he can set his sights on them.” 

“We can’t just leave,” Stan told her. “There’re too many unknown things out there. At least here we know what’s evil.” Bebe just shrugged again, but didn’t try to defend her idea. You watched the group as they all chattered and picked at the loose strings from your shirt, worrying it between your fingers and jerking a little to unravel it more. 

“We’re gonna have to kill him,” Kenny said point blank. You should have figured he’d be the one to state the obvious, even though everyone else seemed to want to dance around it. He looked at each of you in turn, eyes hard and determined. “We can’t just let him keep wreaking havoc. He’s gonna eventually be an even bigger problem than he is now.” 

“Kill him though?” Kyle asked weakly, his face was paler than before, eyes a little wider and frantic looking. You kept forgetting that Kyle hadn’t really left the library the entire time you’d been holed up here. He’d mostly stayed inside and kept away from the fighting and the zombies, kept himself hidden with his little brother. Stan reached out and took his hand, rubbing it gently as if to warm Kyle. Kyle didn’t even look at his best friend, just kept staring at Kenny. “I mean, that’s just... That’s a huge decision. We’re gonna _kill_ him?” 

“Why not?” Kenny asked. “He’d do the same to all of us, and you know it.” 

“Yeah, but…” Kyle trailed off and licked his lips, shaking his head. “Killing him, though. It’s just…” 

“Hard to accept and wrap our heads around,” you said, speaking up for the first time in the conversation. “Premeditated murder.” 

“That’s the way the world is now,” Kenny said and his eyes went to you this time, since you’d been the last one to speak. You stared back at him with furrowed brows, allowing those words to roll around in your head as you thought it over. “It’s not like it was when we were growing up. Even growing up in South Park, things had never been _this_ crazy, but now they are. It’s the apocalypse or whatever. We have to deal with situations on our own. Sometimes there’re gonna be things we can’t avoid. Killing Cartman is one of those things.” 

Silence fell over the entire group. It seemed no one wanted to keep talking about it. “What happened with you guys anyway?” you finally asked. There hadn’t been time to get everyone’s stories yet, so you figured you might as well change the topic. “What happened when shit started hitting the fan?” 

Kenny laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I was in my piece of shit house,” he said. “I didn’t notice anything was going on right away, not until it was too late.” He didn’t volunteer any more information and fell silent, not looking at anyone. 

“Where’s Karen?” Ike asked, going straight for the hardest question of them all. You hadn’t noticed he’d snuck up on the group and was sitting just on the outskirts, probably trying not to let Kyle notice he was there. Kyle didn’t react to Ike talking, however, so it seemed for once he wasn’t going to ask him to leave. Kenny’s face shut down and this time he studied his hands in his lap, clenching them into fists before loosening them again. 

“She’s dead,” Kenny said finally. You didn’t dare blink as you watched his face, your heart clenching in your chest painfully. Kenny looked lost and wrecked now. You could swear his eyes were filling with tears before he clenched them shut and refused to open them for a few moments. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyle told him. Kyle’s voice wavered a bit with emotion, but otherwise it held up okay. You didn’t know what to say, so you let Kyle speak for the group. No one else made a move to say anything on it. Kenny sucked in a shaking breath before he opened his eyes again and appeared more composed. 

“My mom, she fell victim to the first wave of the virus. She’d been taking a nap, and she woke up as a zombie. I didn’t even know until Kevin started yelling. I guess she wandered into his room and just latched onto his throat, ripped it right out. There was blood everywhere. I got there right when Karen did, and there was a lot of screaming. My dad had reached the room first, tried to pull mom off of Kevin, but then she got him next. I grabbed Karen to drag her with me-- to get the fuck out of there, to go anywhere else but stay there-- but she tripped halfway down the hall.” Kenny stopped for a moment and clenched his fist, thumped it weakly against his leg. “By the time I turned around to try and get her, dad was already on her and she was--” He broke off and shook his head. “I can’t get her screaming out of my head,” he whispered after several moments of silence. 

“I was at work,” Bebe finally offered up weakly when it seemed no one else had anything they could say to Kenny. He didn’t look at all offended by it. By this point he’d probably heard enough platitudes and didn’t fault anyone for being at a loss for words. “I work at the movie theater during my breaks. I remember thinking _God, today is so fucking boring_ and then,” she paused and shook her head, blonde curls following the motion weakly. “I heard this sound from outside, and I didn’t think anything of it. It was like a weak groan, and I just thought that like it was a machine or something acting up and getting louder. I was getting pissed cause my break was supposed to be happening soon, but no one had come to relieve me and I was stuck in that stupid fucking ticket booth, waiting. Then suddenly I heard this scream from down the street.” She paused again and swallowed, her throat moving with the motion. “It sounded… I don’t know, inhuman almost? Because it was some lady screaming as she was mauled by a zombie, but I didn’t realize that right away, not until later.” 

“Then what?” Stan asked once Bebe fell silent long enough that it seemed like she wasn’t going to continue. She shook her head as if to drag herself away from her own thoughts and sucked in a breath before continuing. 

“Officer Barbrady came running around the corner of the theater, and he had his gun out and he just yelled at me to get to safety,” she said. “I didn’t-- I didn’t really get what he meant. Safety? What could be happening that I wasn’t safe in the stupid ticket booth? But I stepped back thinking I’d go inside, and that’s when another zombie came outta _nowhere_ and just, like, took Barbrady down. They went down in a tangle of limbs, and he started screaming and there was _blood everywhere_ and--” Bebe broke off with a mangled sound from deep in her throat. “I hid underneath the counter. I just-- I stayed there for hours, just shaking and scared and having no idea what the fuck was going on. When it was starting to get dark I glanced out and didn’t see anything, but Barbrady’s body was still laying there and-- I got the fuck out of there. I went into the cinema to get my crap and then I just stayed hidden in the backroom for a long time.” 

“That’s where I found her,” Kenny piped up. “The next day. A lot of places were already looking abandoned and, I don’t know what possessed me, but I went into the theater thinking I might find something in there to use. I don’t know, and somehow I stumbled into her, so we grouped up. Figured safety in numbers or whatever.” 

“I mentioned Token and how his house wasn’t far away,” Bebe explained, “and then we went to find him. He was holed away in there with his parents.” All eyes turned to Token now, clearly thinking he’d take up the story, but he only stared blankly back at Bebe and Kenny. “Uhm,” Bebe stumbled over herself, and then continued with, “We ran into Cartman’s group soon after and joined with them. Kenny had asked if we knew what happened to you guys, Kyle and Stan, but I hadn’t heard anything from anyone, and neither had Token. So we just stuck with Cartman ‘cause there weren’t really any better options and we were scared out of our minds.” 

“Then we found out you guys were alive the other day and that was that,” Kenny told them. Stan was staring at Token closely, a frown on his lips. 

“Where are your parents?” he asked Token finally, after he seemed to solidify his courage to ask the question. Token turned his eyes towards him and frowned back. “They said they found you and your parents, but only you’re here with them. What happened to your parents?” 

“My mom died,” Token finally said. “A day after we ended up with Cartman, there was an accident and she got scratched by a zombie, but not bitten. Cartman killed her, because he said it was too late, she was already infected even though it wasn’t a bite.” Everyone winced, but didn’t question it. Cartman was insane at this point. A scratch or a bite, what did it matter? He probably wouldn’t really need that big of a reason to get trigger happy. “My dad… we tried to have him come with us, but he refused. He wanted to stay with Cartman’s group. Said it made more sense cause they’re larger and stronger than yours. I refused to stay, so here I am.” 

“And here we are,” Kenny finished up lamely and spread his hands out in a gesture to show exactly where they all ended up. Here in this library, holed up with their new group and trying to plot the downfall of Cartman’s gang. “So now you know.” 

“Now we know,” you said softly. You fidgeted in the beanbag and silence fell once more. It weighed heavily over everyone present and no one looked at each other in the eyes for a long while. 

“What’s the plan then?” Ike asked. It seemed since he wasn’t denied access to the group, he was attempting to fully participate. You looked around at him to see he was staring at Kyle, who was pointedly still not looking at anyone. “What do we do, Kyle?” 

“Why are you asking me?” Kyle groused quietly. He folded his arms across his chest and hunched his shoulders forward, curling into a ball in his seat. 

“Maybe ‘cause you’re kind of the leader?” Ike pointed out. “Ever since we all got here, we kind of started looking at you to lead the way.” Kyle looked up at his brother and glared weakly before looking away. 

“I never said I wanted to be the leader,” Kyle grumbled. 

“Well someone has to be,” Stan mumbled, looking at no one and instead staring off into the distance. You agreed with him. Someone had to be the leader even though no one else wanted to step forward to be. Kyle had been the one to take it up when you all first arrived, and no one had fought him for it. He hadn’t seemed to want it anymore than anyone else, but Stan was right. _Someone_ had to be the one to make all the tough decisions when it came down to the wire. 

“I don’t want to be,” Kyle said a little louder than he had been speaking before. Everyone finally looked around at him and he frowned fiercely. “I don’t want to be the leader.” 

“Okay?” Kenny said and tilted his head to the side. “If you’re not gonna be it, then who is?” He looked around at everyone else. You stared back at him, before glancing at Kyle once more. “I mean, I could be, but I just got here and--” 

“What do you mean you don’t want to be?” Craig finally spoke up with. “You’re the one that everyone’s been looking to. You can’t just ditch now, Broflovski.” 

“I didn’t sign up for this!” Kyle hissed and he stopped hunching forward so he could glare at Craig instead. Anger was apparently easier to come by then his other emotions, because his eyes flashed and he growled under his breath. “I don’t want to be the one who has to make all the stupid decisions! What if I make a bad one? What if someone gets hurt? What if someone _dies_?” 

“News flash: it’s the zombie fucking apocalypse!” Craig shot back. “People are going to die. _Clyde died_.” Everyone winced, and Bebe looked as if she’d been smacked across the face. Craig didn’t appear to notice at all, instead continuing right along with, “We can’t have anymore pity parties! We can’t have this bullshit where everyone is weak and crying and refusing to do what needs to be done, or else people are going to end up dying because of it!” 

“Lay off, Tucker,” Stan snarled viciously, his face flushing red with anger. “You don’t need to go yelling at him, alright!? It’s not Kyle’s fault--” 

“Guys, enough!” Everyone settled down, probably half surprised or shocked because the words had come from _your_ lips. “We don’t need this shit, got it? Craig, lighten up a little. Kyle’s human and he’s allowed to have emotions. Kyle, if you don’t want to be leader, fine. Someone else can be it instead. This isn’t as big of a deal as _Cartman_ , guys. We need to remember that that’s what we should be worrying about right now.” 

Silence fell once more and no one tried to break it right away. You looked at each person in turn, last of which was Craig who refused to meet your eyes. He glared at one of the boarded up windows and his hands were clenched around the sides of his seat. “So if Kyle isn’t the leader anymore,” Token finally said, surprising everyone since he’d rarely spoken this whole time, “then who is?” 

“I could--” 

“That’s not even funny, Ike,” Kyle cut him off and glared at his little brother. “You’re thirteen. You’re not going to be the leader.” Ike looked ready to argue, but Stan spoke up next. 

“He’s right, Ike. Kyle’s twenty and he couldn’t even handle it. It’s not ‘cause you’re less than anyone else, it’s just that you’re only thirteen and there are other people who could do it first before we choose you.” Stan studied his best friend’s brother quietly after he said it, and finally Ike heaved a sigh and nodded. Everyone lapsed back into silence for another few moments as everyone thought over it. 

No one looked like they wanted to step forward and be the one to make all the tough decisions. You watched everyone closely to see the thoughts roiling behind their eyes, to see them trying to figure out if they should be the next person to step forward. “I will,” you said and surprised yourself again. Everyone turned to stare at you. Craig made a movement like he’d been punched in the gut, and his eyes, wide and shocked, met your own. “I’ll be the leader.” 

“Are you sure?” Kenny asked. No one spoke against it, but everyone was studying you more intently now. 

“Someone has to do it,” you said and chewed on your lower lip for a moment as you thought of what you wanted to say next. “I get that it’s a hard mantle to take up, but… _someone has to do it_. It’ll be hard, sure, but… I’ll do it. I’ll make the tough decisions. I’ll shoulder the weight of those decisions and I’ll be the one to help everyone. I think-- no, I know I can do it. If no one else has anything against that…?” 

You looked around at everyone to see no one looked against the idea. Ike piped up with, “I think it’s a good idea.” 

“Thanks, Ike,” you told him. He just smiled at you a little and shifted a bit on his seat, looking at everyone else. “Everyone else is okay with that?” 

“I don’t like it,” Craig said and then sighed, “but yeah. I’m okay with you being the one to make all the tough calls.” Everyone else murmured their own consent too. 

“So, oh great and wonderful leader,” Kenny said and managed to flash a smile at you to try and lighten the air in the room. “What do you think we should do next?” 

  
  


* * *

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Kyle said as everyone got ready at the front doors. You were busy sliding the safety catch on your gun and setting it down so you could make sure your backpack was securely strapped on you. Kyle hovered near the front doors, wringing his hands and looking more and more like his deceased mother by the minute.

“It’s an apocalypse,” Stan told Kyle gently. “There’s gonna be loads of shit we have to do that you’re not gonna like, Kyle.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle groaned, “but still.” 

Stan just stared back at the redhead for a few moments, before his lips twitched up at the corners. “You could come with us,” he pointed out. Kyle just shook his head. He had already told everyone it’d be stupid to have no one stay at base to watch over it. Kyle was sticking around with the shotgun just in case someone tried to start shit. 

“I want to go,” Ike said again from the librarian’s desk. You didn’t have to look around to know that he had a mulish expression on his face. “Everyone else is going.” 

“Kyle’s not going,” you pointed out, “and neither is Tweek.” You looked at Ike just in time to see him make a face, as if he wanted to broadcast what he thought over his brother and Tweek not going. He probably didn’t think anything of his brother or Tweek staying behind, but using them as an example wasn’t a very strong one. Tweek had refused point blank to leave the library anytime soon, and Kyle still didn’t have any interest in leaving either. Ike thought he could actually be of some help to the group. 

“You can’t just keep me locked up in here forever!” Ike pointed out. “The world’s going to shit! I need to know how to protect myself just as much as you guys. I can’t just let you guys handle everything all the time! I have to learn shit too!” 

“Ike--” Kyle began, but Stan placed a hand on his shoulder and Kyle cut himself off. Stan looked seriously at Ike. 

“He’s right, Kyle,” he said without taking his eyes off the younger boy. Kyle opened his mouth to argue, but Stan shook his head and his hand clutched harder in the material of Kyle’s shirt. “Ike’s right. Yeah, he’s only thirteen and in normal society that’d be way too fucking young to fight for his life, but… this isn’t normal anymore. Ike has to learn how to defend himself. You can’t just coddle him forever. That’s not going to help him in the long run, dude.” Stan finally tore his eyes away from the youngest group member to look at his best friend again. “You gotta start thinking about letting him learn how to take care of himself.” 

“He can!” Kyle cried out and his face looked frantic as he looked around at everyone else, as if hoping someone would back him up. “He can handle everything _here_! He doesn’t need to go out there and endanger himself--” 

“He has to learn how to survive out there just as much as in here,” Token said from the back of the circle. “You can’t just baby him, Kyle. He has to learn how to shoot, how to protect himself if everything goes to shit again, how to defend himself against zombies. Ike needs this maybe more than we do, because we have more life experience since most of us are twenty, but Ike’s only thirteen.” 

“What are you suggesting then?” Kyle growled. “That I let my baby brother go out there with you guys and get mauled?” 

“You can’t just treat me like I’m a baby, Kyle!” Ike yelled. “I have to learn how to defend myself, and the first step to that is learning how to shoot a gun. I want to go with! I want to help. You can’t just keep me locked up in this library forever and ever.” 

“That’s not gonna help him,” Bebe said. “He’s right. He has to learn how to shoot and all the other harder things.” 

“Safety in numbers, dude,” Stan said. “It would probably be better for him to go out with our whole group than to wait until there’s a mad dash for food or something.” Kyle shook his head, looking mullish himself now. 

“Kyle,” you said and you reached out to place a hand on his arm, looking up at him pleadingly. “He can go with me. I’m staying near the back with Stan. We’ll take care of him. It’s Kenny and Craig who are doing the hard work. Let Ike come with Stan and I so we can watch him, and we’ll teach him how to shoot a gun. We’ll watch out for him.” 

Kyle stared hard at you with a fierce frown on his face. Finally, he broke his gaze to glare at his brother. “You stay with  (Y/N) or Stan the _entire_ time, Ike! I mean it!” Ike nodded frantically and slid off his perch, his body practically vibrating right out of his shoes in his excitement. “Don’t wander off! Don’t leave their side! I swear if you end up hurt--” 

“I won’t,” Ike hurried to reassure him. “I’ll follow what they say. I’ll do exactly what I’m told, and I’ll stay in the back with  (Y/N) or Stan.” There was a tense silence before Kyle nodded and stepped aside. Ike quickly went to grab his jacket from the children’s section before hurrying back. 

“Alright,” you said and clapped your hands together. “I guess we head out. Gotta find Cartman and all that shit.” 

“I don’t think he’s moved his camp, so it should be relatively easy,” Kenny said as Kyle began to open up the front doors to let everyone out. “We should be able to get there in an hour as long as we’re careful, and then we’ll just call him out or something. I don’t know.” 

“He’ll probably invite us in to laugh in our faces, say we’re making this a million times easier on him by coming to him instead of him having to find us,” Token said as he stepped outside, with you close on his heels. Stan and Ike were the last ones out and they walked to stand next to you before everyone turned back to bid Kyle goodbye. 

“Be safe,” Kyle said and his eyes stayed on Ike as he said the words. “Come back with Cartman’s dead body rotting behind you.” Kenny saluted before turning and beginning to walk away. You waved before clapping a hand on Ike’s shoulder and leading him to follow, Stan bringing up the rear. Craig, Token and Bebe were right in front of you, talking in low voices as they walked. 

Ike looked over at you. “When do you think you can show me how to shoot?” he asked with his eyes on the gun you clutched in your hands. You looked down at it before handing it over carefully. He stared at it with a partially open mouth, half awe and half disbelief that he was really holding a gun. 

“This is the safety,” you said as you pointed it out. “You have to keep it on unless you’re gonna use it, okay? I’ve had a hard time remembering that, but I’ve gotten better. Be smarter than me and always keep that in your head. It’s not real hard to figure out how to shoot, but you gotta make sure to try and keep your hands as steady as you can.” You reached out to help him in positioning it off to the side as if he was aiming at a phantom zombie. “Try to aim as well as you can at their head. If you don’t think you can hit that, try for their feet or something to keep them from moving as easily. Only shoot if you really have to! The sound will attract other zombies, so if you can sneak around a zombie, do that before you decide to attack it, okay?” Ike nodded. “Okay, hand it back over for now. Maybe I’ll let you shoot something later.” 

“Okay,” Ike said and quickly held it back for you to take. His hands shook a little, but you weren’t sure if it was from excitement at being out, or nerves from the same. He didn’t look like he was freaking out like Tweek always did whenever he was out of the library. So far Ike was holding himself together relatively well. “Where’s Cartman held up anyway? I didn’t hear you guys talking about it last night.” 

“He’s at the old elementary school,” Stan answered for you. “I guess he holed up there, ‘cause it’s larger and he’s got hopes to expand his little group.” 

“He wants to be the overlord or something,” Ike snorted out, showing just what he thought about Cartman doing something as stupid as that. “Like he could do something like that.” 

“Who knows with Cartman,” Bebe said as she slowed down a little to walk on your other side. “He’s crazy enough, I wouldn’t put it past him to figure out a way to do something like that.” 

“We’re almost to the town now,” Token whispered. “I think we should probably stop talking for a bit.” 

Kenny glanced around from the front and nodded in agreement, raising a finger to his lips to show everyone should quiet down. You wanted to avoid the zombies as much as possible before you got to Cartman. It’d be better to get there unnoticed so that you could focus more on the living people who could hinder you, rather than any of the undead. 

You were going to have a hard enough time with Cartman. Let’s try not to add any zombies to the equation just yet.


End file.
